Absente Terebenthine

I closed this book and my collection of empty pages,
I wanted to find the atmosphere of a warm painting.
Dark colors with a single source of light in the middle,
one man, seen from behind.
Everything reinvented differently,
neither overpopulation nor clans,
Individuality the mistress of each row,
red, the white hole. But no brush is virgin like the first stone.