quarta-feira, 14 de julho de 2021

The taste of a poem

The moon whispers,

Sounds that I can't understand.

Peace, I force the peace to come in,

I let the window open, close the door,

My mouth moves, 

Silence is what comes out.

I hear a question, I erase the question.

Going for a swim,

to forget.

Close my eyes,

to forget.

To forget.

To remember,

Memories, smells, the touch, the sounds,

Of far away lands.

Was I happy?

Blurry.

It's all so blurry.

It was real, I know it was.

I grab those memories,

I force them to stay.

They sit with me at the table.

We have long conversations,

We dont sleep,

There is so much to say.

There is?

Does it matter?

To whom?

The music starts,

I forget.

And I close my eyes...

 

AR