The Flake.

Geschreven door: Sebastiaan te Molder.

Crying I embark the balcony,
The railing stopping me in my tracks
And supporting my weight, I look up.
From the clouds emerges a snowflake.
The dawdling movements mesmerize.‎
Two older folks entering my domain.‎
They name me before leaving.‎
The flake continues its journey downward.
‎ Its movements are unpredictable
A girl my age enters the playing field.
‎ She stands next to me; looking at the sky
My gaze remains held by the flake.‎
She calls me by the same name; asking for my attention
The same name those folks named me.‎
Humouring her I ask her what she wants.‎
She presses her lips against the ones I feel.‎
My eyes never stop receiving light from the flake.‎
Always falling to its destination.‎
The girl has already left, closing the door behind her.‎
It creates a vacuum.‎
The vacuum allows the flake to readjust its direction.‎
The girl gives an encore
A younger boy is with her.‎
He asks me to name him.‎
I give him the most obvious name possible.‎
Afterwards she asks me for a drawing
Once more she left.‎
The Flake is now nearly at the ground
The railing cannot support my weight any longer
I realize now; I have wasted my life watching this flake
Yet I have not even found an answer to my question:‎
Why does it fall‎
Whatever the reason; it was beautiful.‎


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