A door opens; some kind of animal; deep gaze.
In its eye caves the look can be lost. The deepest darkness there inhabited.
It pounce over a person sat in a grass armchair
This does not get upset.
A red room.
A long wide vision from nowhere to nowhere.
In the wet carpet the animal lies down.
The door closes.
There is no door, there is no person, no animal, no walls, no room.
A hot red tone.
This is observing its own immensity; the eyes, the infinity, the universe.
Hot red tone.
A kind of wind is trying to come to lift the dream.
The red vision is going to the darkness
In the center a point of light dilated more and more.
It is possible to see from an incalculable height.
Every detail fully sketched.
Their movements appearing rule by some kind of order
Their passivity appearing rule by some kind of chaos,
Perhaps the contrary.
A light spot one of such figures
Nothing produce the light
Nobody is seeing it either.
In some parchment situated in no place such figures are being drawn.
That spotted figure is giving sense to the other figures
But it has no sense.
That figure raises its hand
The others figures look up.
There is nothing, they see something.
The blue of the sky is tinted of red
the clouds passing at high velocity
then passing again
all the same.
Quickly the same forms drawn over and over again.
It does not stop.
The procession is contemplated infinitely;
its end is awaited
but this can not happen
there was no beginning.
The observant figures change, the same stay there.
In thousands of abyss others realities are drawn.
The rooms have no doors,
the windows are shuttered,
through the walls the sound of the wind.
In all such rooms some kind of being lying on the floor.
A grass armchair.
Some kind of empty world.
Is there a play between such beings?
Or only expectation?
The dream vanish
© 2022 a k v