No matter how much you try to find it
in crowd
in solitude
in riverbanks
in pussies
in you…
You won’t find it.
But that day I found it
while having a conversations with her only through music.
Perhaps the absence of language made it possible.
You see, a poetry has language,
painting, cinema, culture,
war, machine,
everything has language…
But music doesn’t.
The only commonality, the only science.
I found it that day
and now I keep it inside a cage…
All it needs now
an open window,
the flow,
the vibrato,
the wavelengths of drugs.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Johny Walter.