A true self
You let go of your silver-white dream with wings.
Your low and still sunshine,
I'll approach your green development little by little,
I am fascinated by the calm smile.
I occasionally burst the odd seed at the sight of me collecting it,
People who dreamed of the sea as children sing echoes at the top of their voices.
White debris that scatters light.
Even if it breaks and breaks countless times, it always remains as a lump.