U sat down, lights off, pop corn there, at hand.
A guy in the screen connects days "by a certain piety", or so he says.
He contains all pain and hope, contains my thoughts and many futures.
(Never a poem)
I came with a certain face in my mind, the face turned tiny, insignificant, a close-to-nothing something.
A beautiful close-to-nothing something.
Certainty of a whole, which runs in my vains, allows me to feel the street in my feet, makes me smile at others.
Tiny beautiful thing.