Of Muses And Other Ghosts

(7 march 1988)

11'th November


But the marks on my skin, left by your lips
in time, will be eroded, I fear
under the weight of another's kisses.

Running faraway, across so many blue oceans,
and not even noticing that my heart, was still in your palm,
hidding your freckled face from me
as a child hides, from his mistake,

That's what made me fill these pages, with poems,
and I don't know if I'll do it tomorrow too
for it's been almost half a year,
since my lips miss your lips, under the sun and under the moon
but today as you can see, I did not let my pen's ink dry.

What would you think of me
if one day you'd stumble upon my poems,
like you stumbled upon my dreams
that night, when we sat and kissed
on the bench under the willow?

Submitted: Friday, May 10, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, September 17, 2013
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