My love
separated by seasons
and light
and the stars with all their names
and the blue daffodils' babies
and the silence of
my forehead
and thousands miles of
still rail
from your dreams
to mine
and my childhood's cradle
and your loud
voice on the phone
everything
and
nothing.
Our whole universe
of imaginary love...
Sometimes I wish to have
your wings
to fly over
the highest tower
of the city shouting:
"I miss you, don't go before
morning come
in my heart"
but I can't
like I always couldn't
be myself,
be happy...
Today I hate,
I don't know why,
the mist of the
piece of heaven around me
one picture with all my walls
blue of illusions,
of love or
other great expectations...
Only today
I will hold you
in my arms,
in spite of all the
seasons,
or light,
or the stars with
their names,
or the thousands miles
of still rail
between us...