I don’t give a damn about anybody.
I’ll switch off my lighthouse
and I’ll throw my anchor in my
family port.
Most of the quasi friends –
double faced, closed, hidden,
let them become friends,
who’ll grow more and more afar,
in the end they’ll be barely visible –
somewhere in the middle of the sea.
When I see their hands in the air
I won’t know if they’re waving
or simply drowning.