FLUID SUNS
MARIA CALANDRA, GABRIEL CORTESE, MICHAEL HAIGHT
09 APRIL – 22 MAI 2022
Poem by Vincent Vanden Bogaard
I was almost tricked.
Blurred in memories:
without remembering,
fooled by the sunsetting day,
slowly mixing its grapes
and its citrus fruits.
Me,
escaping the dream?
End of the night?
New ventures coming.
Looking at the window.
Wide open eyes,
blossoming lids,
black rounded pupils
reflecting as glass shards.
Frowning
with my vision getting clearer.
Sun beams hitting my face,
slapping my retina.
Experiencing,
the early spring razor rays.
Touched by thousands
warming finger tips.
Squeezing the essence
and the juicy mixture:
absorbing the pulp.
A stinging taste on my tongue.
Green and orange leaves.
Jonquils and Vrieseas shades.
Melting atmosphere,
all around me,
bringing me delight
and odd satisfaction.
With no explanation,
I was fixing horizon.
My body emerging
from a colourful silence.
Liquid light bathing.
I was losing myself.