Archive for 26/02/2023


White snow, soft like exhausted lust, he said. It fell

during the night, unexpectedly, with all its wise silence.

In the morning, the purified city shone in its whiteness.

An old water pitcher, left in the yard, resembled a statue.

He felt the sharp coldness of the ice, the immenseness

of whiteness, as if it was his personal labour; yet, for

a moment, he worried, that perhaps he had nothing warm

to freeze, that it wasn’t a victory of the snow but a neutral

peacefulness, a freedom without opponent and glory.

Embarrassed, he went to the street and soon as he saw

the snowman children had created, he went close and

placed two pieces of coal like eyes. He smiled vaguely

and played a snow fight with the kids till afternoon.