imanamanai: Ii puneam in insectar

luni, 14 decembrie 2009

Ii puneam in insectar

infasurata in somn.

sa nu mai aud. sa nu mai vad. sa nu mai miros. sa nu mai gust. sa nu mai ating. da, sa nu mai ating. somn si zbor infasurata in aripi de fluture fara sa ating nimic de teama sa nu-mi auda, sa nu-mi vada, sa nu-mi guste sau sa-mi traga pe nas praful straveziu. o poveste. aveam nevoie de-o poveste. incepe cu un fluture. se desfasoara inaintea ochilor mei in somn. el si povestea odata cu aripile lui dezmortite de incolacire.

am calcat pe fluturele ei. atunci m-am hotarat sa mi-l iau pe al meu.

fluturele sta in noi, infloreste si zboara .sta in noi de cand suntem mici si e si el mic. cand ne e teama ii e si lui teama si atunci ne falfaie in stomac. cateodata se plictiseste si moare fara sa ne anunte.

mi-am luat fluturele in pat si m-am invelit bine. mai intai am ascuns plasa in dulap

Niciun comentariu:

Trimiteți un comentariu

Alice: But I don't want to go among mad people.

The Cat: Oh, you can't help that. We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.

Alice: How do you know I'm mad?

The Cat: You must be. Or you wouldn't have come here.

Alice: And how do you know that you're mad?

The Cat: To begin with, a dog's not mad. You grant that?

Alice: I suppose so

The Cat: Well, then, you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.

If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearest you ever get to it on the mainland, just one heavenly moment; if there could be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaids singing. The children often spent long summer days on this lagoon, swimming or floating most of the time, playing the mermaid games in the water, and so forth. You must not think from this that the mermaids were on friendly terms with them: on the contrary, it was among Wendy’s lasting regrets that all the time she was on the island she never had a civil word from one of them. When she stole softly to the edge of the lagoon she might see them by the score, especially on Marooners’ Rock, where they loved to bask, combing out their hair in a lazy way that quite irritated her; or she might even swim, on tiptoe as it were, to within a yard of them, but then they saw her and dived, probably splashing her with their tails, not by accident, but intentionally.