Stillness

Sometimes in my mind everything goes quiet
And there is a bottom-well silence
Hanging in time
Like a bird floating, not flying, in the sky,
As the windless grass in a painting,
Or the ever staring look in Olympia’s eyes. – She never blinks.

And in this stillness I walk
Amid people at their suspended lives
And observe.
And at this moment I notice
The thousands and thousands of little needles
One millimeter away from my body
Frozen half a second before reaching my skin.
And as I walk away from them I realize
Nothing really hits me.

I put, one by one, the needles to the ground.
And a gush of warmth runs through this ghostly place
And everyone starts to walk again
And the birds resume flying
And everything comes back to normal
And life goes on.