Through My Soul

Everything around seems familiar – rain, wind, night. But these familiar things cease to work according to the rules: rain does not touch the skin, wind does not push, time folds like a paper crane and ceases to be a straight line. Even gravity forgets how to keep things on the ground.

Love here is not from the cover, not from the movies. It is faceless, formless, but with a strange, gentle force that does not change – it rebuilds. There is no fall in it, only swimming and drifting, as if someone turned the world inside out, and the light began to sing, although no one is singing.

And all this is quiet, almost soundless, but with absolute clarity. As if someone had designed the cosmos in the palm of their hand, erased the maps, removed the directions and left only one - to where everything finally coincides.