Miracles are fate playing mind games on us
Brain parasites feeding on memories
are mistaken prisoners
Taken on a departure lounge;
My past - just a nearby shop window
with no dutyfree hopes
I used to cry only on frozen shoulders
Now I am used to
knowing how I must feel
how long it will take to be completely healed
It’s like I am having a transparent chest
And didn’t know it.
First times are always betrayed by the seconds,
the thirds don’t even matter in time-
We make daily confessions to the deafening omens,
Those we have sinned against
instigated by pride;
We can embrace those who are already loved
and fail to predict their last hugs!
Surrounded by mirrored walls,
guarded by indifference shields,
chaperoned by tears,
Is it because love is never enough
the pace of a heart?
Or because we are born already blind
and there are no soul mates out there to cure our sight?
I assume we just reinvent ourselves too many times
to the point where we become chameleons
Too much brevity, too little bravery
An autobiography of celebrations and commemorations
Like an affection slavery chain
Chewing and swallowing our own words,
their ashes’ ashes - my inner squashed outside
Still missing the recurrent fever
of spring bloom,
the absurdity of my paradoxes,
the breathing rhythmics of a crowded room;
We start a new life every morning.