By the bench
by the lake; at daylight at stake: I watch my questions drown - I hope the fish will enjoy the taste. God keeps me company in the Sunday’s sadness: “Nothing.” Her voice strikes and delights, "That’s the only thing that hides.” Time stops briefly as she does. Then, it resumes to her soft say: “…All rules are made up, too.” The Cosmos draws a smirk; she points at the waving water. I walk up to it; my reflection comes to me; It tells me in the iris: Life is Life.
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