There are times when we cannot explain things which need to be lived in order to be understood.
There are times when we cannot even write what we are thinking, silence seems to be safe.
There are times when doors and windows are kept open but only winter seems to get in.
There are times when books are closed, notebooks are hidden, words are put to sleep and we sit in the corner of the room while our body takes long naps.
Soledad Lorena©
Leaning shadow
17th June, 2016
