The one that i see
is a face
eyes about to cry
and those weary feet that cannot
stop walking
i am cold like a stone
covered by too much moss by
time's burying
of all dead thoughts
when you walk away i
say nothing
what else can be covered
by words?
what else can this heart
deny?
i have been seeing
so many sunsets
i sleep sometimes in places
that keep
empty glasses and
charred wood
when i wake up i do not ask
so many questions
i keep watching the sea
and amaze myself again with something new
like another sunrise
which tells me that nothing is repeated and dull
what comes embraces you
not with same arms
kisses you again not with same lips
i am happy
i have no more old thoughts
the stones in my hand are never mine
neither are its empty spaces
between my fingers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem