Surely more than one of you have felt like this at some time, like a Fly

Surely more than one of you have felt like this at some time, like a Fly on the tongue of a Frog



There is no
movement
in my mind
nor words
looking for more words
my thoughts are dead
while I watch
the walls
the lamp
the sleeping clock
and that closed door
that makes me feel
like a fly
on the tongue
of a frog
at the mercy
of the voracious appetite
of the end of a dream

Where is my essence?
The bottle containing it
now is broken
only a slight aroma remains,
so diffuse...

How to stop this reality
when Yesterday is dressed in badly laid bricks

How to retrace a path
lost in a discarded draft

How to avoid those stones that I trip over
even having changed my way

how how how