My window


I stand in front of my window.
I see words coming.

Some words I recognize:
although, red, before,
nevertheless in his flapping coat,
truth, imperfect...

Some climb on each others shoulders.
'Who are you?', they ask.
'Clouded', I answer.
'Fully or partly', they ask.
'Lightly', I say. 'Lightly clouded'.

I glance down.
I wish I was glistening
or somewhat
or better yet: inherent.

It's starting to rain.
Although looks up, her cheeks are getting wet.
They all scatter.

Darkness falls.