That's how it happened. We met in there almost by coincidence and started talking about nothing in particular. About the weather and imaginary friends. About who we were without names. Then about what we wanted and never dreamt. Without wishing to go up but rising. Denying our desire of staying but pushing every button on the way up to stay close just a little more. Because once you arrive at the top you can only go back down.
Because hanging on to a cloud was the art of dreamers and never that of the insane.
No comments:
Post a Comment