Je t'écoute. J'écoute tes pas qui craquent sur les glaciers.
J'écoute la neige...

Traces

I smell you
like the wolfes.
You crackle the whole forest away
and I easily step onto your big prints.


I follow your sweat in which
you drown some fears, didn't you?


I lost my soul so I dare to
be human, be cruel, be aware
and run through the trees at night
when darkness is so thick
I breath swallowing pitch.

Indigo Song

I lay on pages of drafts
on flowers of ink
and I lay and I lay with nothing else to say
embedded into a circular thought
slippering through your finger they're like notes
this indigo morning sees you around
into your eyes a faithful hesitation
a very simple smile

and I lay in your hands through your fingers full of notes
and I lay on my drafts with nothing else to loose
as was said so was done
a long winter walk just to shake our souls, lonelyness
keep me away from regrets
drowned by the heat of a mortal coil.
I've been driven by so many of his fears
but I'm here, and I'm here to play
all the words you've been clustering from my pieces of sound
I've been hunting from silence
shining and glittering are my steps into the early morning
my favourite light, hardly born, between day and night.

I lay on pages of drafts
on flowers of ink
and I lay and I lay with nothing else to say.
I was driven by so many of my fears
but I'm here, and I'm here to play this game...
All those indigo notes collected from silence.

The Long Winter - Extr n.20

[...]

from my hotel's window
I can see the holes between the buildings
the white trees with glass arms
those holes filled with my emptyness

I can breath the unexplored city,
boiling under my feet
the taste of the hard language
knocks on my mind from the tv up there

so winter seems to end
in this far district of Istanbul
among other rooms and some places to eat

I spotted some flowers
in the garden of the palace
the pink flowers of peach
as it once was, the landscape of Japan

cold has left the cities
I get my purple coat back
I walk along the crowd
and easily loose my way

[...]

The Long Winter - Extr n.12

Jingling snowflakes
music letters
falling down a november night.
They kept rolling the air of December and January and February
love calendar by winter shorted
never warmed enough to melt the season.

I still play records of conversations
while I'm walking in lighter coat
on the same steps passing by and over although...
like little pieces of frozen music
I can feel them sharpening in my hands

I play those words and what I know
of your heart so dear to mine
I played them from pentagrammed leafs
and they echoed an entire soul
as if I could sink into your many worlds.

this pleasant trip were you is me
slips down to my throath sweet and thick
and breaks the boundaries of my physiology
melting blood and electricity straight to
the embodied mind.

flying flying on my wings
playing
playing loud and sound

fortunately, music is everywhere.