There will be rain as long as there will be dark and not so dark cloud over our pierced roof…
Otherwise it’s always light coming…same light that questions life in mars,
same light that questions science in Jupiter,
same light that questions distance in nothingness…
There’s a weird machine in our orbit which collects pictures of mad comets,
and it predicts the magnitude of this colossal procession.
I wish; one day I am going to find you there in those pictures of meaningless darkness…
And I am going to write a poetry about trees and the roots and the leaves…
and I am going to show you how you are similar like all these familiar leaves in spite of having a selfless grey root from your tits of zero gravity.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Julius.

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