STONES

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
There is nothing to do.
The desert is growing.
The landscape considers melting with the horizon.
The soil is dry.
Silence sleeps.
Maturing the time.
Flowers are growing.
The storm is over.
It's winter.
When the flowers sleep.
I light a cigarette.
The smoke turns Eastwards.
The boat is floating.
The ice is melting.
Working on its oeuvre.
There the working classes are working on another oeuvre.
Making a statue out of stone.
The owner of the statue stands still.
The water comes from the river.
The stones are dragged by the river.
Into my hands.
My hands grab them.
The sculpture is waiting.
The difference between the stone and the sculpture is made by the sculptor.
I haven't seen the moon today.
Don't paint my time.
The moon tells me it's time to depart.
The moon, the sculpture, the river.
I am leaving.
The rhythm of the moon.
The shadows of the moon.
Everything is left behind.
I am trying to spot a dark mark in the moon.
But everything turns round and round.
The moon is also escaping from us.
I am trying to catch the last train.
I'll find a place to sleep.
The train is moving.
We are working on the train.
The train stops, we move forward.
The stone has turned sand.
3-11-2016

Submitted: November 03, 2016

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Submitted: November 03, 2016

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There is nothing to do. 
The desert is growing. 
The landscape considers melting with the horizon. 
The soil is dry. 
Silence sleeps. 
Maturing the time. 
Flowers are growing. 
The storm is over. 
It's winter. 
When the flowers sleep. 
I light a cigarette. 
The smoke turns Eastwards. 
The boat is floating. 
The ice is melting. 
Working on its oeuvre. 
There the working classes are working on another oeuvre. 
Making a statue out of stone. 
The owner of the statue stands still. 
The water comes from the river. 
The stones are dragged by the river. 
Into my hands. 
My hands grab them. 
The sculpture is waiting. 
The difference between the stone and the sculpture is made by the sculptor. 
I haven't seen the moon today. 
Don't paint my time. 
The moon tells me it's time to depart. 
The moon, the sculpture, the river. 
I am leaving. 
The rhythm of the moon. 
The shadows of the moon. 
Everything is left behind. 
I am trying to spot a dark mark in the moon. 
But everything turns round and round. 
The moon is also escaping from us. 
I am trying to catch the last train. 
I'll find a place to sleep. 
The train is moving. 
We are working on the train. 
The train stops, we move forward. 
The stone has turned sand. 
3-11-2016


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