The kind of thinking that goes into each and every breath.
Each and every breath compressed in hot hot air.
That dry desert air.
When suddenly the world goes dark once and for all. . .
and the quiet of the night takes its place.
The sky will descend.
It feels like magic.
and all memory will appear.
These beams of light,
where all my memories glisten,
as if they were reflecting off a Mirrorball.
And that's exactly what it will remind me of.
A great giant Mirrorball through the eyes of a child.
Can you picture it?
The first time you saw a Mirrorball,
revolving on its axis as though the world were spinning -
spinning inside another world unknown to you.
(Only - In this room it was only you, all along. . .)
Just a million different memories all under the same effect.
And the stars dancing around like they existed so close -
they were meant to be touched,
one by one.
Taking your breath away,
until that thought evaporated as though it never happened.
You are not faced with asking, if it all has meaning.
You are just a child waiting for the miracle to happen.
You were shot down from the hot hot air making-up for long lost time. (end)
- Marco
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