The right volume is dispensed
In a standing glass of honesty and accuracy.
The bench gathers simple liquids and mysterious tools
That will decode the way to that answer
In a successive repetitive dance.
What makes my stomach
Contract and resist
To the ongoing drama
What will fill it with butterflies
With the energy of a laser
And coming after work.
The rays of the early day
And the sweet smell of the morning
Are the perfect sense to the adventure
I am starting alone.
The Luggage is full at the door
And the diary has white pages left.
The unexpected happened
Once again under your eyes
At the most inappropriate moment
What to do is not clear.
Smile for the surprise
And start chasing the mystery.