The facts are airy
They move through each other
and are searching for a shape
They smear black as white
in my eyes

I hear echo after echo
in thin air, dark blue
like the night, illusions
in my mind rebound
until they spin as a hurricane

I don't feel what is there
but what can be felt
and my thoughts run
after it till I fall down
and do not know how to lie

in the images of the city
in which I want to return
to touch its marvels
which exist everywhere
that I am