Photo:Laila NeihoumTurquoise code
Far enough from the rock of washed away gangs' calligraphies,
not that far from the butterflies tree,
where in a haze ,
a casa de nothing for everybody,
in a turquoise code of pale rose drenched in the breeze,
with yellow walls lined with dreaming blue birds,
reflected in the pearly flesh of that shell,
in that deepest lagoon,
of the bluest green full of colored illusions.
Oh, that folded distances in a Spanish fan style,
lead to that country of tongue clickers;
the not objecting,
living in a cloud of wistful possibilities.
not that far from the butterflies tree,
where in a haze ,
a casa de nothing for everybody,
in a turquoise code of pale rose drenched in the breeze,
with yellow walls lined with dreaming blue birds,
reflected in the pearly flesh of that shell,
in that deepest lagoon,
of the bluest green full of colored illusions.
Oh, that folded distances in a Spanish fan style,
lead to that country of tongue clickers;
the not objecting,
living in a cloud of wistful possibilities.
Monterey, October 12 -08
Laila Neihoum
