I love all the curves of this world
But I rather to be straight like an arrow.
The bow is my opposite
The strength and the reach
Of my straightness is a bowed object.
The bows at the depth of their radius
They are arrows too
Arrows are the depth of their radius
were released from the bows of some whims,
some launchers hope, frustration and inhalation.
Without being straight one cannot meet curves
without white canvas
colours
cannot be recognized.
