i loan myself to an illusion

the purple sky of the rainy days.

the sea is olive or it is just flood in the meadow.

and something as soft as grey

we often call "loneliness".

like the tangled hair in the wind,

needless to brush.


i fold a little boat with the morning papers i got,

and blow it away with a dream last night.

it will sink very soon i know though.


still it seems just an illusion

i would like to loan myself to,

with a high interest

i have to pay back everyday.

and well, in debt eternally.