It happens sometimes,
I recognize the lines of his face
on other man
and we sit
in a nearby cafe.
In the background
you can hear a laugh
at some point
they start to sing
something
doesn't matter what.
His metal glance
turns him into satisfied dog
and a god I give a hand
to stand up,
so we go along huge tree shadows
in this valley
every house
looks like a standing human.
''What a weird happenings
in a circular street? And where
have I been before to take a look?'', I say.
He grabs me gently
to feel the perfume of my bra
in a some humiliated country
where every fear wraps itself with indifference,
dance becomes put out by strength.
And the show ''Flight of the butterflies'' begins
he breathes rapidly in my palm,
but I'm not challenging the wind any more
but waiting for the storm to stop
sheltered somewhere.
After that it will happen again
With someone similar enough.
Comments
A queer imagination tis
you doubt your own self
in anothers' arms
who could be like the one
now in your arms
That's my impression of a
twin
one who has none
so I've been clear enough,
so I've been clear enough, yep you're right loved
real love and love twin look the same but are not
two similar men but not the same person
;)
your writing is fabulous....
sometimes the old lovers I had were of many people
their conflicts broken them down...
the agressor whom refuse nothing but get what wants.
the soft equally thirsty.....the rains of their shadows
never quits....fierce....What do they want of me....
broken and poor as they come....Why do I give too
them......scratches in November...bruises in August
for them too cherish...they return with hot chocolate,.
chocolates...we did dishes...took showers......a turn on the
four legged tilt and whirl.....we feed the hungers we know
of each other..like no other.... Love the line real love..
an love twin...
thank U
hot august....restless surly calm
we had little lightening this year
there is some...unsatisfying as it is tensed and teasing
I am haunted...troubled...proud...emptied...
doors closed on chapters of life
like a room with chairs
but the air has changed
I come and re read from the library
works I have felt before
I remember excitement
where now its the machinery of
business....day to day
I have to drift
or work harder
this poem is gorgeous to read...
thank U...again!