how we wish to keep
it simple, like
love
but most of the time
love gets so complicated, like
betrayal, where
secrets arise, and when there
becomes too
hypocritical, to keep love and
luxury walk together in the park
and in the
veranda of a five star hotel,
now it gets much more folded
and inside the cabinet
of ourselves
we close in, showing nothing but
a well arranged
set of furniture
when the lady of the night comes
there is only this
bottle of champagne
two glasses, some stars in the sky
a glass wall
and from the 20th floor
another love story unfolds,
and at the end
you make a conclusion: this is just fiction
please disregard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem