P.Righini, 2026
Sitting by the washing window
watching something strange and real
all my life begins to flicker
like a spinning magnetic reel
Rhythm moving like a heartbeat
maybe like an endless swing
colors turning in the circle
dancing in the metal ring
Round and round the washing drum
beating like a distant hum
time keeps knocking in my chest
while the world sinks into rest
matter breaks and starts to glide
sound dissolves and drifts outside
lights go on, then fade away
lights go on, then fade away
In the blue glass of the door
I can see my ghost inside
thoughts are fragments spinning slowly
in the circle of the tide
And inside that perfect motion
there’s a strange cosmic design
the machine keeps washing time clean
rinsing logic from my mind
Round and round the washing drum
beating like a distant hum
time keeps knocking in my chest
while the world sinks into rest
matter breaks and starts to glide
sound dissolves and drifts outside
lights go on, then fade away
lights go on, then fade away