This poem was written in a moment where things were not easy but love was there, standing still.
Make your happiness or misery into words, make them poetry cause they’ll fly and they will dwell in those hearts who read them.
We are that thing,
That exception of nature,
The beautiful sound of the water
Through the rocks.
We are the awareness of the whole,
Of the life, of the love…
… But still, we are not together.
We are the pieces of the compass,
Solving the mystery of the lust,
Laughing with the touching of the senses
Feeling with the words of the poets.
We are the flight of the birds,
The sun in the horizon
The wind and the leaves,
But yet, we are not together.
Our history is like those ones,
That, unbelievably, we believe
That don’t exist in the mind
Of crazy writers
And sinner priests.
We are the nowhere
We are the space
We are the sand and the concrete
We are the time
We are one
But still, we are not together.
two different you
in the morning
and at night
I love the one
you are at night
that’s the you
who loves me