I need to know that I will become lost somewhere
Autumn leaves beckon the beguiling smiles of the sun
Just to abandon the rites of the seasons
When their turn has yet to come
I see you sitting at a little greek coffee shop swallowed by bougainvilleas with clenching little hands
How one can forget love in the time of cholera is beyond me
But perhaps you where never really mine at all
But who can deny the scars of adolescence?
Even ashes dance around in the winds joy!
were you somehow inspired by Garcia Marquez's book? you referenced to it well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love your metaphors. But sometimes getting what you're saying requires a stretch. And maybe I'm just lazy.