Writing

I write to stop time,

which runs, too fast,

flies away.

To catch some instants, store them forever,

pour emotions into glass jars and come back, from time to time,

to taste their flavour again.

I write to take a breath

when the days seem like lists to check.

I write to stop and listen.

With my ears, with my skin, with my breath.

Taste the feeling of air descending into my lungs.

Feel the caressing sun on my face and

capture memories,

marking them on paper,

preventing them from dissolving in the air.