Touching the swaying refection, That the still water drew roughly on herself, I Sensed a lookalike between the waving me and myself. A feather touch all that's needed To make oneself evanesce. Did I hear her? I did see her... The portrayal fragmentary to my eyes, Looked whole for any bloodless eyes! The perturbed life, akin my soul, pondered. Hours spent, questioning the meaning of The similitude, more dissimilitude. 'The world of movement, the word for life, The lifeless too move with you, stride with you, How did you stop just to manifest my resemblance?
Look! Your sketch scattered over, A part of you, did you wait for me?' Dotingly, she asked me to unearth the silhouette Of the figure she drew, of rainbow colours. Then dissolved, just to disappear The instant current took it along the salty water, As if to remind me of my replica's instability. What is that she wanted to verbalize? I did hear her... 'Dear replica, the contour isn't black, darkened By the smoky vision, you couldn't dip yourself In colours, take a dip, stretch the hues! It may violently hit the shores, may sink, May dissipate, yet won't dry up to be black!' Who murmured within me? You? I need a make over, for I need to be ready For the next act, for endless scenes!