stor-m

Love is a glue,
Gluing two together;
When it melts,
Love cannot be felt.

We are individuals after all,
Who can be sure
The star of love will never fall?

I am not you,
And you are not me,
Only when you believe,
There is a “we”.

Love is a ship.
When the storm comes,
It just could not escape:
Eaten by the tides,
Washed by the waves,
Or end up, perhaps, in the stomachs of the whales.

Pale is the lip,
Love falls asleep,
The sailors leap.

I told you how I feel,
But if you do care,
You will try to feel
and heal;

You said you cannot understand,
Yet,
If you wish to understand,
You will;
But if you —

You will never know.

Written on 27 September 2013.
Love brings colours to the world, feelings to the Earth.
Grey is the background colour of my lovely little world.

I know I am a masochist, falling in love with my wounds.
For a poet is someone who feels the world with all his heart,
portrays the world he feels in his every great piece of work,
every choice of words.

 

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