Mirror of time, loosen up your ties.
I’m not afraid of monsters, i laughed at your ridiculous posses, i offer you a gift of death, i kiss your lips of almost d
I bring you to my bench, we give pigeons crumbled bread.
We wait for the next person to pass through here, but he nor she will come until we’re gone.
And you ask me what are we waiting for.
Our waiting in this bench doesn’t make sense.
Let’s rather visit an old womanand bring her the image she reflected on the mirror when she was young.
Her eyes still moving looking for who she’s become.
Mother, would you rewrite your story?
no time for melancholy now.
just come closer, then far. Learn the distance you’re walking through the days.
Prepare yourself for no repetition.