A blue candle burning. Distillate oil on it suggestive of a scent: the stillness. A journey by car, very fast, which exceeds limits of speed and adrenaline. The radio screams their songs because the notes were lost between crystals lowered.
A more leisurely return journey, clouded with tears, anxious, dangerous.
But we're safe. We got home and the soul is still crying, the moon is full and the dogs howling. You open the window, turn on the blue candle, breathe the stillness distilled aroma of an alleged loneliness and ... and awake!, And doubts, and twist a lopsided grin while you devour the melodies of a few, and you cram the keyboard to write and erase what we think, feel, alone and howling ...
A blue candle burning. Distillate oil on it, suggestive of a scent: the quiet ... shhhhhhhhhh "I go out early again today I cooked ..."
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