Out of the air, suddenly there was Michael Jackson.
Sisters fan, a tiger on the lap, reality into musicality,
something original and new, liked the music, sang tunes.

It was sometimes quiet, forgotten, but always there.
I don’t like misery, hidden face, an accident, publicality.

I remember you, as when I was young,
for who you always were, a shame

you stopped showing who that became.


Vlorror.