Once, I was sitting and painting rain –
Straight lines on white paper
Straight as pine coffin boards
Flat and straight, like soldiers in the ranks,
who stand and wait for order
fall down on the asphalt –
That straight and smooth
like a white wall pierced by the bullets, that get stuck in it,
like words gets stuck in the heart –
sharp, precise, cold words
like skewers with pieces of meat on them
like water washes away the lines of rain
flowing down on white paper.