In my internal, someone
is painting with no colors
refuses my masks that I wear
when the distance
between you and me is the absence.
I speak to him in our hide out .
we agreed :
Satisfaction Balance is
not the equivalent of revealing
agreed to exclude lying to you,
promised not to rebel
and not to cry no matter how
Be my book store, pen holder, tears wiper.
Amid of mixed black and white that hides who I am
not to know that the venous artery and heart pulse
are inverted
my heart beat is as the sound of tambourines
when you show up.
Comments
anele,
Every time you comment, I feel like wanting to read what I have written once more.
You bring up things that I thought they would never be seen.
Thank you.
Ramona,
What comes from the heart reaches the heart, thank you very much.
Nebia,
It is a great egg when you are wise as you said.
Wow!!!
Precious hen then but unfortunately it is a sterile hen, fa.
Nebia,
The hen is (egging) golden eggs now.
uncaught, lol
Sorry!
The hen is getting wisdom no?
Thank you Fa.
siriA,
No comments, you stated real feelings which I really respect.
Thank you
Nabia,
Nice didactic outlook. Thank you for this lovely poem.
Not air but wind;
uncought
speedy or slow
stormy or kind
sometimes here
sometimes there
you wake up one day
you find it nowhere
Easy come easy go.
But only its smell will remain
To give you the truth it existed one day
This is love!!
Nebia,
Yes, all stages of love are basic love if treated as air.
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