(no subject)
Every single time you struck with force. I could never have guessed that love was also this underground current flowing persistently, crossing the ground paved with dark colored stones without escaping, passing the lukewarm hay running to the orchards undivided. From here I look deep down at the well but I always end up in a folder with your photos reading them as a poem when words can’t explain it better. Sweet water obstacles are your eyes where mine travel the endless journey. Crystal clear is this unsuspected tenderness swinging with the bell towers, written with every mouse click or with each key press as if in the wind, pushing off misgivings, crossing windows of your inner village, my quest for your heart. It is true that a braided glance is thrown at your lips but I am the prisoner here. Your open neck always kills me and I do not urge to consume it. I long for your desire to be loved. My hands are heavy and my fingers feel like a thousand trunks but yours always find a way to pull up the water. Look at me from the other side of the shop window glass, thinking, how would she look in that skirt? What if she wore that shirt, would rays float embracing the sky? Dreaming of you I have no rush to return to the house so I find myself walking under the rain, soaked also in a sweet trap, the way I am caught up by you, and you may doubt if I miss you, sometimes words can’t explain it better.