the sky is always. it's a good thing to look there. i read the clouds without thinking or thinking like clouds of clouds. wanting to disappear you could by looking cloud hidden.
it was dark, then it was pink like inside a shell, then lightening, defining. 
i decide again to delete the news, save art news. in the city in a building like this, up high, 
through the window the sky is always passing by, always moving, always just for this moment, there. if you would see yourself looking out you would see the reflections moving like clouds in your eyes.