P0497. The wind

Theo

Motionless, without gravity, without power, and inanimate …
The mighty feeling that your breath is falling short …
Breathless, close to monastic ..
In silent admiration ..
Refined reflection on a monastery wall …
Your name ..
But also disappears again …
Love her by not loving her …
Don’t love her …
But let them be carried away by the wind …
Only for her …
That wind, so sharp .. painful …
Soulless ..
Like the cut of a scythe ..