#118 (freefall)

photo credit: Matthias Geh



of the subconscious

plunging into thick darkness

no more thought

mere fragments and

floating images

the door of the house I used to live in

some old coins in my sweaty hands

waiting to get a scoop of chocolate in summer

the barbie dolls of my neighbour

radio dramas and  test patterns

so much snow and glowing cheeks

the faces of my dearest ones

the taste of my first kiss

and how he smelled like fabric softener

that scent forever etched into my memory

the wave of nostalgia

broken on the shores

of earlyy morning sun

the past ground to dust

by  cruel golden light

*16th January 2017

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