The vapors of a lapse of memory

White lights slash the black veil of the night. The rain falls thick on steps which flee. In the one evening gravity of melancholy. Calm and peaceful with the listening of the noises. Of a race on out-of-date steps. There is the softness of the humid air, the silence of the trouble. Pleasure of gently splitting them in a deadened environment. Where loneliness has the softness of a welcome caress. The tenderness of an expected confession. Trailing like a sleepwalker in the middle of the streets. In search of an unknown feeling. Taste of sweetened or salted or another welcome savor. There is the absence of reference mark and time. Just the happiness or the one moment facility. Dreaming while disappearing. Behind the curtain of a fleeing fog. Shades among the shades closing again. The one day old door which sinks behind the veil of the melancholy. Leaving only the vapors of a lapse of memory.