a world separated by walls and something warm to
comfort wounds
again I
small and lousy as I am
I cannot remember how your eyes looked like
if they starred into emptiness
or if they simply
slipped the night into black rivers
like giant engines
in which silence falls
wagons along the poppy flowers field
over which it rains nights over and over again
and now flowers are getting dark
and fade away

I dreamed of you by the water
your body was a fountain near which I stopped from
time to time. My hair fell over my
shoulders, you said the nice thing to do was to cut it
at least if it will rain
the sky would feel no sorrow

I learned about words` weight
among books and tears. You saw
me grew up and when I looked the other way you
would put rocks in my backpack

love

all we have left
after we grow up and die
torn apart by walls and something
warm to fill our wounds.