I’m seeing that book again, I see it through your eyes.
The characters jump beyond the tough rind of the hardcover, and he darts to this side, towards me, but I don’t hear the noise I don’t get wet with water and all I can see are colours.
And the princesses escape from cardboard towers, they used to work as cashiers at the supermarket and they escaped with the cash, the prince never showed up.
Nature becomes superb, it shows off its beauty, picks up wastes, sells out your sleepy memories of laid out dreams.
If I close my eyes, I switch you on in my mind, if I open them, all I can see is paper.