Close the door and listen It’s such a blue sky
And so is the sea whose image I can hear on the phone whose texture I can scent
The ceiling in your room suddenly has a floral pattern, thousand of points generate a petal
White… fleur du lys - white as the body armour or maybe as snow powder
Fine as the neck line that is hiding under the helmet
I can hear the rhythm of waves
I can hear them strangely echoed as if I was plunged miles down into the water
Those echoes overlapping my heartbeats, alpha and theta waves
A.. at... ata ...atat
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