the metropolis is actually a village
bird watches as metropolis fades i could smell the sea breeze over your cigarette smoking. now two days after the encounter, i feel exquisite, as if i'm missing something. i am confused again, why is it? oh, why. i didn't avoid your gaze, or i tried my best not to do so. i must be sincere to the point and say that i wasn't attracted to you that day, nor may be again, but still the strangeness persists. why is it? oh, why. i recall that other day, you set your eyes on me and i was only melting like ice cream; but this time, no, i have to say that: no! i could see you were trying, but i didn't melt. i was more of a pretty frozen ice cream right out from the fridge. now the metropolis reaches its farthest and suddenly contracts, shrinks before my bare hands: the metropolis will not turn bigger, it will not become the equatorial megalopolis. the metropolis is illusion, only a village.