the beating of butterfly wings to take off
a small thorn to dig into deep
anything , or even less or nothing at all
a gasp of wind is enough
the important thing is not to stay on the same level
on the usual and only allowed ground
same ground , same day
same grey air conditioned skies of these forgotten suburbs
in the farthest corner of the universe
no
never again on the same level
but away, far up or down
into deep
in the immensity
deep in the heart
up in the clean air above without conditions without fears
possible salvation
and so be it
Marco Bo
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