Those white moments flee
out of me
they fly in the sky
swinging among silences.
Sometimes my windows
define a square prison
dressed in sunlight and
straight lines.
The year of struggle seems vague.
The moments of solitude empty.
And my coffee is cold
waiting for me on the heavy desk,
life inside it has seized
arousing something more important
than a broken circle.
(Photo: Groningen, the Netherlands. January 2018. Lomo Instant camera, Instant Fuji Film.)