On my thick scarf,
Snowflakes were timid and nesting away
Giving me a the pleasure of a cold breeze.
I dreamt my coming holidays,
I planned my work to the boring detail,
I envisioned and felt the warmth of my family,
Until the train stopped again.
It stopped me.
I paint in red this Thursday
of severe miscommunication.
My headache is red like fire.
The wall in from of me is covered in flames.
Blue cold sense is born in the chaos.
Ideas are clear and still like water.
The waves lull and cuddle without any disturbance of the mind.