Trafika Europe 11 - Swiss Delights

stoneage

my dreams grow on alien planets. glass-fibrous roots on the dream edges, to be fulfilled, piece by piece. constructs that the day drives away. they glide away during fringe-hours, into the endurance of the unreal, fantastic. sometimes a smile. a laugh. hey, little one, silvia, you are trying to fool yourself. don’t waste your time. in the end one sole planet remains to you, blue and gold, unpopulated, mute, cold.

215