i wanted to stop
and perhaps even cease,
not what you mean,
i love life and its
perks
for i still have
all that i wanted
and i am still
on top of my own world
all these useless
endeavors
the poetry that arrives
at nothing
the story that covers
the faces of
truth
but presents them though
in different attires
to arrive
at the same destination
i wanted to stop but
who can really?
thus, you arrive from
a recent trip
tired and wanted to sleep
needing rest
but here you are in this
empty room
and the bed with a perfume
of its own
and the pillows with the
warmth of
past loves and the blankets
that covered
the moans....
and so you write again
as though you are playing the
piano keys and
then you fill the air
with music
as the lyrics start to
fly like doves and
hover in your mouth
for you
to speak.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem