In the night a distant voice had nearly fallen asleep. Next to my one foot an open book was engaged in light conversation with the wind. Somewhere in there under the despair of the sand, someone finds a small sparkling, a small sparkling green. I sat and listened to the blue, blue sky, the laundry and the pigeons, seagulls, swallows (were they really swallows?). I wrote myself into a frenzy back then. I don’t disappear. In my first App, I awoke and placed a light in your smile.