I can write the most sad letters to you from the distance
saying you for example,
"the gloom is coming and shake, blue, the stars far,
far away among the moonlight".
I can write the most sad letters,
telling you my dreams, my stories, my nightmares.
I can write them, I can write them, but I could never feel them.
I can write the most sad verses from our cosmos
that perhaps could tell you spring's secret,
that perhaps could take you through your own beauty.
Throwing into my soul her bullet,
the muse drove me by her way,
and I followed her nicely.
I followed the sound of her tears,
because her eyes already had turned off,
so I decided to look for their brightness,
running over mountains, roads and freeways[...].
Look! A shooting star!
If you want to leave,
I don't want back you to stay,
but if you want to start again,
give me back that letter, that verse, that word, that memory.
Because there won't be another free place here,
do you know where I'm pointing?
Neither into my heart nor into my soul,
but into my broken being.
YOU ARE READING
Words Of Wasp
PoetryFar between sundown's finish and midnight's broken toll. We ducked inside the doorways, thunder went crashing. As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds. Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing.
