Dust

Can the wind take you away like dust? 'Cause becoming dust terrifies me, becoming dust is what keeps me going. I see you gone, and at the same time, I see you frozen in a white and black universe, where we are not millions pieces of dust holding together, where we are just moments. Your hair is a poem, girl. So are your eyes that I cannot see, that are gone. Gone to a moment that could be occurring close to you or far away, in a universe of technology made of dust, dust with the shape of letters, of numbers, of symbols. Dust that connects you and me, no matter how big the sea is between us. Dust where you are standing, in a eternal beach, full of dust that kisses every day, every minute, every moment with the sea. The same sea that will not let us meet each other, moving with the wind. The same wind that will take you away someday, forever. The same wind that takes away the dust. And if we all go to dust someday, maybe there we will meet, we will say hi while the wind plays with us. We will say hi and will not need more dust to understand each other, no more letters and words, no more distance, just us like in the origin. Just us: you, me, the whole world finally realizing the inevitable destiny of being just dust, dust small like tiny moments frozen forever, forever asking to be joined to create beauty. A beauty that the wind will not take away.

(Fotografía de Leah)