I IMAGINE WINGS I don't look like a comedian. I am not a clown crying through laughter. No, I don't have a mask but a white bandage or a plaster. With my silent words I guide my voyage further and further. I must bite my tongue as my own wounds cannot be deeper than the world's ones. I imagine wings and a flying bird seems a miracle. I am not a comedian or a clown crying through laughter. I ask a pilot if my wings are ill inside the plaster. Mr. pilot is not a doctor to answer.