The lounge dream around my feet
Is thick and solid
And keeps annoyances and doubts
I draw it each day
But vanishes during the day
Under the lightning of others.
The market is sometimes hard to find
In the big bag.
Silver and pink will make my office
The sensitivity and hardness of metals
Will match the comfort of my feminine side
And lead the science and the people.
The domestic poetry of proteins
Will join the practically and instability of research.
Now you can see me
And include me in your plans
Of succulent dinners and unreachable offices.
I will embrace your plan,
Obscure and personal,
Until we stand on a higher rock
And I will see what the horizon holds.
Add a stroke of pink to your writings
And a curl to your Ts and your Is
When the window is closed
and no escape can be found.
The head down on the white paper
Can imagine a world of fun and flowers
Even In a grey cubicle.
The arrival home
Is a proper for the intense day
As the boiling stew expects
a smile and a daily achievement.
The day closes sweet and homey
After hours in the artificial world
That takes your breath away.
Red Hair and a pointy nose
Are your ticket in this trip
Between mountains of velvety sheeps
and tons of vivid petals.
I see what you see
And touch those peculiarities
That dot the panorama
And that drive me to the top.
A hug not asked
A free content that surprises,
I am sure,
Mark the birth of a friendship,
Like milestones on the road.
I felt the connection,
A missing sister with more experience,
Whose oven is always on
And whose table has always an extra chair.
I let my words go
With direct strokes and clear edges
To transfer with the minimum black
The condensed story.
No word should leave a physical mark
On an innocent candid sheet
But on a private moment in time.
Bubbles in the room
Encapsulate ideas and experiments
Forming a personalized constellation.
The horoscope tells a story
Of falls and traps
On the way to a more understanding atmosphere
And the final disclosure of your potential.