Little Prince

2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43

Who we are with you, maybe the meeting of glances in lost worlds, inhaling the morning fumes of the subway car, listening to the rumble of the wheels rushing away to your personal calvary of desires, how quickly can we come to our senses after leaving you, my dear little prince, who are we? you are such in this world of abandoned streets and departed steps, the knock of a closed door around the corner, two steps away from the misfortune of loss, but we could have entered there, our views, closely intertwined nets thrown into the boundless sea of desires, nets pull the water flowing through them, our glances, my little prince, our tired eyelids droop as a sign of reconciliation and acceptance of the inevitable grief of understanding ourselves, we both blink wearily looking at ourselves in the back of the head and never seeing our eyes, only yours, my prince, only your gaze of an artist drawing looking at the back of my head, who we are for each other that we have the right not to be together so freely, who endowed us with this universal power not to see our faces, and how could I live without it day after day, looking into an empty mailbox, the postman died, the paper has decayed, and the box is like the mouth of a black hole, beckons and beckons, invites a hand to a meeting with an unknown person to play Russian roulette with him, open it, and there is empty, boom, you lost, again, again and again, your gaze appeared before my eyes, you tell me not to be sad, your friend, my sorrow is your greatest heartache, you know a lot of pain in life and it hurts you with me, you know how fresh your look is around the bend, do you know how the motive of the river flows from the iris of the eyes, how the field of ripe ears trembles in the wind of torn eyelashes, you see their gaze looking from there, from afar, you feel their presence in yourself today, my little prince, who created you this way impeccably wretched, a poster torn off the wall in a dormitory, light and bright in its stretching gloom of the typographic model of life, the machine worked for wear and knowledge in this world, as gentle and devastated as the running of a leopard in the savannah at the sunset of the treetop, the perfect mechanism for rolling the sunset, everything flies down to the horizon, your eyelid slowly fills the blue sky and flows into the suppressed blackness of the earth shadows applied by the makeup artist on for the foreseeable future, everything merged together and darkness came, the passage was closed and only the memory of the old days of solar seduction was imprinted on the wall opposite, like the shadow of a boy running into a bomb shelter in the designated city of Japan, he did not have time, but came just in time, and remained spellbound with your look of true love, my little prince, how can I deny myself the contemplation of your declaration of love, so powerful and pure, demolishing everything in its path, flying through heads and houses, at the distance of one hungry dove carrying a twig of peace, I am not able to resist this passionate utopia that flooded you, you are my silent god, and I am your silent idol, self-proclaimed and self-proclaimed a loyal one and between us myriads of positively charged protons are called upon to select energy, filling with someone else's, forever being only a form without content. My little prince, look how beautiful this world is without you and me, can you see it?

Eyes filled with peace emit light.