Tangled

Things built out of lego pieces

are no stranger to falling.

Be it a bond of love,

friendship or

be it your existential strength.

 

And through the numbness of

all the phases,

you receive the saddest call,

you feel your heart stumble

down the halls.

 

It kisses you in the ozone,

and sends you up to

the space to be frozen.

 

Your lips sense like rosy falling blossoms

and my ship’s sails were lost in them.

 

It’s a new attempt to find

stories in the poem,

in the letter,

in the lover.

I try, each day.

I am here, each day.

Waiting,

searching

into each cloud to relate the main theme.

 

Each raindrop in the eyes,

each disaster in the grin

and each sunset

meant that I returned to

the last walk,

the last smell of your perfume,

and I found that smell in every flower.

 

The world already has too much pain for it,

I wouldn’t make my poems to

try for you to cry.

It’s sadness, I know.

I’ve always been.

But that’s the main theme.

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