Peeling the first dark purple layer

(so thin and ready to become the wind)

dispersing clouds,

(apparently! do not get tricked)

knowing that it hides the tears deep inside

(transcending grief and sorrows and stories of this kind)

until the sweet revealing core of truth is reached.

Patiently peeling the unknown slides of time

(while hope says chances are it could be sweet)

a sweet and tasty onion of life,

a first of many other layers,

a first of January,

a first to trust.

January 1st, 2020