Tiny and tidy in white and gold
You will secure my thoughts and plans
For a future of jumps and bubbles.
Not a diary,
Not a child anymore,
Not an agenda,
I will dictate the time,
Words and numbers will be equals,
Time will be subjective.
You are heavy and rich
Of a world that absorbs me
And to which my imagination is deeply attracted
At Any minute of the day.
The story is hanging
And the characters incomplete.
By reading, I fill them with me life
And complete them.
Pinky fingertips of mine,
Who translate those windy thoughts
Into paragraphs of inspiration,
Hold me closer, please.
A day of difficult communication is ending
And another one will drain my blood
Pink and gentle,
You represent me to the world.
Suspend your judgement,
Not every day has a lesson at the end.
Learn to hang and just observe the scene,
Remembering only what feeds you.
It gives you a basis
for evolving tomorrow
Into a strong person
With a red book
full of short views
Always there to restart from.