TO YOU E...

 Dear E,

I miss you.

Today,

when I saw an ant

carrying the soft wing 

of a butterfly 

I thought about you.

The way you laughed,

the way you looked

and the way you left.

Sometimes

I fear am losing you,

I fail to recall your face

but then i hear your voice

approaching me as an invisible wind and 

your eyes 

that small mole on nose

everything comes back.

It's your memories

that keep my dusty pages in the place

from the tornado of 

desire to die,

 like a paper weight.

I write each and every day

to you,

 for you

until my fingers burn

and my eyes bleed.

I cry 

I bleed

and die

in a vague hope that

tomorrow everything will be fine..

Nothing changes

The days and nights

the sun and the moon

remain or repeat.

The time is long gone

the promises of reciting Neruda in a sea side,

the dreams of a 

garden of purple flowers.

But I believe 

the sole purpose of

my bloody existence is 

to love you

to adore you

and to cry over your absence.

My heart knows 

am doing it great.

I try to figure out 

out of thousand things 

I did, what made you leave- quietly but

mercilessly.

I wonder what my life would have been if you were here, but leaves it as an physics equation.

My bones are heavy 

and so is my heart

but I speak about the

vintage clothes I can't afford.

Pain chokes my heart 

yet I remain silent.

Dear E,

I miss each and every part of you.

I know you won't come back

I know we will never laugh on my lame jokes

I know we will never 

discuss Kafka and Sarte

I know we will never gift each other the 

second hand copies of our favorite books.

Dear E

I hope stars are taking

good care of you.

Thank them for me.

Dear E

I miss you.

Every day

Every night and

even when there is no time and space.

Yours

always (not crying)

P.

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