My space

The softness of its textures is my possibility
A skilled assembly of corners in my space.
Here I create space as time’s multiplication,
In wind-blown doors and curtained windows
Brushing palpable wind, the colors of prism.

The colors are my ghostly existence outside,
A sun dwelling in my senses, ruffling my hair
Creating dark patches of my exfoliated skin.
The sun lives in my interior as room partner ,
An extension of space through several times.

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