Say nothing

Say nothing.
Concentrate sight in a lemon slice, or a glass.
Say nothing.
Listen to the noises without paying attention.
Appreciate colors as flashing spots of a day that you couldn't recite from memory.
Say nothing.
Walking alone beneath the lights of a city that much knows about stories as yours.
And you don't avoid looking at that mocking face upon those whom you assume are outside, and are another thing but you.
Say nothing.
Life concentrate in your eyes, in your skin, in every breath.
And words are shapes and colors, a sensation visited many times with a different mood, with the eyes of the child you were and the strength of the man you want to be.
And you say nothing, because sometimes the important things are hidden.