Against coloured whispers
Thin screams between the particles of the asphalt,
weeping blinds against the weighted metal, the
aura of the street lamps testifies to a colorless film of
wandering silhouettes, frustrated, low
as if mustard-yellow mopeds stopped fleeing.
Roads without content, white lines without access
Without end and perspective
no drive either.
If the flight was geometry
, the circle is free
Drops along the sky
where bricks go against yellow
dew against frozen cotton
When the anxiety subsided.Source: Translated Mot kulöra viskningar.
Source: Mot kulöra viskningar.