Intransparent

in the desert you see a mirage.
on the mountains lots of fog
beneath the forest are the mists
inside the womb of the sea
lights are refracted, things appear
so near and touchable so real

there are in transparencies
unavoidable as you and I.
do not grope for words to put
ourselves in the cage of thoughts.

we are always beyond description.
we become sometimes a painful obsession.
it is at this moment, when forgetting becomes
the most necessary joy: a handshake, a hand waving
goodbye.