How To Soften A Bandana

notes


in the middle ground between the balcony and my room is cold and I have my right hand completely frozen. I remember a few years ago before going to sleep I closed the door the balcony in summer, for fear of bring me down to sleep. the dream would take precedence over reality, and I would fall for real.
on my folder it says 1610, the Starry Messenger, John Locke, a life for the cinema. all concepts that have left much of what they found. I wonder whether that is growing, to be invested billions of words until you get the right one, and you run. the goal is not important or road signs, the metric nor the grammatical construction.
I imagine a deserter who sings, leaning against my window. is high and has a face like the moon, occasionally smiling. Remember that you steam.