Our delivery

With the gulls, I will give this small package. That in which we locked up all our secrecies. Solicitors or unavowed. That does not have any more importance. With the gulls, I will ask to fly away. To plane towards these remote regions where they will deposit it. It will be our chance. With the gulls, I will entrust our need to escape to us. They will plane to this place where one cannot walk any more. It will be our last hope. With the gulls, I will give our light luggage. They will stick to carry it, to transport it with respect. It will be our ultimate lovesong. With the gulls, I will ask to accompany them by the thought. Beyond the floods, storms, towards the setting one turning red of a sun of summer. Slipped into the brittleness of our secrecies. That has such an amount of importance. It does not remain us any more but they to come to visit us. For each morning a pinched bread end. In front of our window, they bring the innovations to us. That summarizes our impotence. To fly, plane, on their transported wings. To look at the world being spread out below. Not touch, just to observe it. That will be our chance. Until the end of the world to project itself. To leave our window with the skimped universe. To project itself, to have plans, the ultimate one, the last. That will be done without arrogance. Just to fly away.For still vibrating. For still breathing. It will be our delivery.