I remember two mirrors reflecting endlessly my image by the coffee merchant
I remember the streets dazzled by the light
I remember the dreams I made before
I remember being scared
I remember an infinite white, glossy surface; I could embrace with my eyes
I remember we had snow this winter.
I remember they accused me to be a dreamer.

I remember I love the night.
I remember I only slept in cars, trains, and planes
I remember I traveled a lot
I remember these two empty pages left in a note book, dividing this sentence...
.... there is something missing in my life

Is that's why years later
I framed the crying face of a just born baby between the generous hidden breast of a woman?
An attempt to frame the void of my memories at the doorstep of the territory of the consciousness

Inversion in time
and space
confusing the perception of the body,
born between the breast of a memory,
feeding the unarrestable process
of our alienation.
There is no return
and the cry
an instant suffocate
the silence
unveiling
the continuous murmur of being

Secret remembrances
collective memories
As a flower never reveals the secret of its scent
fragancing the night,
we recognize what we do not know
because it is unfamiliar
And the passage between the two mirrors
reflecting for ever
what it is
and what it’s not