Elusiona white path could turn the mutant's dream to reality yet his fluid face without frown unmends the grey mood left by the footprints of polar pilgrims in search for signs of evasions he resisted to lead, to follow their silent reign there is but one day to spare when she reaches him like an ice flower unfolding next to a window seat all those roads are people, she tells, temples of thought to be walked like bridges, like tunnels underneath the surface of civilization like shrimp caught by whales in the darkness of the ocean too tiny to be noticed yet essential for the system the next day, he's gone leaving but a note on his desk that accidentally went unnoticed  |
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