The idea of a black mind in pollen is slowly throwing

The idea of ​​the black mind,

To be in your fancy color

With patterns of red anxiety.

To evolve and be held captive

Without jumping over your head

The extra best entry into these loops,

They squeeze inside

Hurry to leave, but with pleasure, they remain.

An anchor cast into the void

Water does not cover him,

The seabed is addictive.

Popping up, not knowing who you are

Make sure and break.

The silence of the fragments in slow motion

Sparks fly out

but do not burn in contact with air.

Been in measurements and again move another figure,

The contours glow in the neon

In a reduced form, they go out and do not burn anymore.

Watches with a laser restore the taste of perfect color,

Piercing and leaving in a different way.

Small becomes big

Settling in pollen, it slowly spreads across the field, turning into the light of a black square ...