The Poet and His Lover

catastrope

  November 8 

dear,i was 

crying 

and there was

 an outburst

 of waterfalls falling 

damn the date! 

 Right when i 

should have 

said to my dear Lucas 

that i love him too

 he had a phone call 

 and then he was gone 

 three days 

we didn't see each other 

 could he be lost? 

could he be just fine?

 words are very vain

SOMETIMES THEY WORKED AS A FRIEND

 sometimes they were

 just MERE SYMBOLS 

if words are irrelevant

 to them well words

 were the ones i needed 

the most i could 

already imagine
a beautiful

 sons and daughters 

who knew their parents 

had published a poem

 'bout a tree and a leaf 

 i could already bemuse 

myself 

of the aftertaste

 of every sweet 

and sugars 

 we both shared

 the tree said,

come here,

 you must know something

 i couldn't write 

a single poem

 a single freaking poem!

 nobody rhymed

 nothing worked better

 but worrying 

 as i came running 

On our tree

 i was already familiar 

with the rope

 i should have

 bought the rope

 was

 now hanging 

and enclosing 

the gap between the poet

 and his neck

there was no response

 a shout

 a cry 

anger

couldn't wake up

 my falling leaf

 i took off the rope

 from his neck 

POOR LUCAS

 WHY NOW? 

WHY HERE? 

WHY?

the problem was not because

 i haven't known the problem

but it was because i never asked

 I was too busy

 fixing myself

 that i tend to forget

 somebody else

 was broken too

 i was busy

 flying 

 soaring 

when somebody else

 was falling 

dying 

 We finished

 the poem 

right after the poem

 finished him