Standing on the edge, my thoughts float into a different universe of sensations, not to be told.
Standing on the edge I sometimes crash into a different world, unexplored and unimagined.
Playing as a cat, I smoothly search for the door to let me in. Roaming and ranging around, and looking and breathing the smell of the unknown, only following the compass of my instinct.
Colours merge into different ones, when the day turns to its complement and lover: the night.
Twilight is still none of them but a promise. A gift to be kept, a word to be said, a touch to be done.
Again and again, each step of our life, we run madly, sometimes stopping in peace, only for a while, always sensing that something is still missing.
Stories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk. Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience. A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths.