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He says he loves her
and then looks away…

She wants to ask him
why,
how,
when,
but he changes the subject…

She has to go along with it
pretend,
share,
think
…and laugh.

Then he goes back and asks her
“Do you love me?”

What should she say?
He knows she loves him to the moon and back.
She loves him much…

And she wants to admit it.
…so she says YES
but then he laughs
they both laugh.

**Ahh ‘the clichés we’re talking about’ he says
and again…changes the subject.
Yester evening the night seemed longer than usual. There was neither moon nor stars. But the night was beautiful even without them, more beautiful then ever before. The enchantment of its beauty…made me think last night. I thought a lot…I let my mind explore into the limits of the inaccessible. As far as to the sky I lived last night. I’ve peregrinated into your thoughts then together we’ve exceeded the imagination and hand in hand we have walked star on star.

We captured the world on the palm of our hands and it seemed small…way too smaller than our feeling. In our thoughts we were one, and as an inherent heart we went on exploring the magic of the sleepless night. We rested on the jags of mountains then we walked on the roads of Venice together. Last night we extended those roads with love…me and you. The shadows of the night besprinkled us with wings and we flew up high again. We were playing with the clouds and our smiles.

Aforetime, thoughts started to tire me up, I noticed that sleep was straining me. With the tiring mind, I squeezed the thought of you and I closed my eyes.
I knew that we would meet again…on our dreams.
HE
HE
He was always a pure mystery.
A shapeless shadow.
A shape that left no trace and made no shade.

He was different.

The thought of tomorrow did not preoccupy him much.
Wishes of yesterday made him sweaty during the night but never made him cry.
Dreams of tomorrow never scared him to death.
Because he dreamt a little but rationalized a lot.
Logic destroyed him, killed his shadows and created in his blood the syndrome of rationalism which made him immune towards suffering.

By being like this – most of the time he was quiet.
People never knew him for what he was rather than for what he showed.
And he…well he never showed much.

With everything he showed he surrounded you with the thought of living with an enigma.
A ‘killing enigma’ as time might like to call it.
The curiosity for that enigma killed you.
Made you scream, run back and forth, shout, punch him, throw dust in his eyes and run away.
Then it made you come back again within the track of rational thoughts and with only a smile exceed that whole mystery without a single question.

Because he didn’t like questions.
Nor did he give the appropriate space to the answers.
All he did were declarations about life, time, loss, fate…but never about love.
Love probably was his Achilles Heel.
Who knows?

I have never quite understood that “pronoun”.
Was it a dream? A thought? Imagination? A tricky creation?
I do not know.

All I know is that he is somewhere out there, breathing in a cusp of someone else’s dream.
One day he might become an inspiration for a poem written by another pronoun – HER.
He has to be her shelter.
As complicated and impossible as he is …he should find another pronoun.

He will meet HER one day.

Maybe they will meet tomorrow.
They may meet today.
As long as they hadn’t already met but haven’t recognized each-other.


This is all that matters.
When they asked him “Why do you love her?”
he said:
“Because she is beautiful, smart, has a great smile and is always there for me”
When they asked her “Why do you love him?”
she said:
“I have no idea why. I just do”.

*She was in love. He was not.
Watching you walk
and talk
and laugh
…it hurts.

Knowing you’re here today
and might be away tomorrow
…it hurts.

Hearing you call my name
out loud
on the clouds
feels right
but …it hurts.

Seeing you look at me
and shiver
tremble
and stumble
…it hurts.

Because you’re not supposed to see
nor look
nor feel
for real
therefore…it hurts.

And you know
and I see
and we don’t say a word
but still…it hurts.

Yet nobody knows…how it hurts.
We walk together
and hug each-other from time to time,
watch movies together
and we laugh
and sometimes cry
but rarely talk.

It's like that.

I look at you and I read between the blinks
you look at me and you hear the words coming out of my smiles
it's as simple as that.

The only problem is that sometimes
at night
when you're quite near
and I can hear the beating of my heart
and the silence of yours
I wonder whether you love me or not
whether you can live without me or what
and I get scared
and wish for more words
because I see that silence
can easily be misunderstood...
In my next life I am going to be a bird
not because I would fly
but because I wouldn't be human.

I wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone
or wonder,
or cry.
(To be honest I don’t know if birds cry – do they?)

I would not think too much
and act too little.

I would make my life simple
as simple as possible.

I would eat
drink
fly.
(I’d FLY a lot)
…and simply live for tomorrow.

I know I’d enjoy every second of it.

UNLESS…

**…unless he wants to become a bird in his next life as well!

Then I am *******.
If at the end of the night
I look at you and smile
You look at me and approach
Grab my waist…and blush
Does it mean anything?

If at the spur of the moment
When I am nervous and stressed
I think of you and smile,
Cherish the moment…
Is it anything important?

If by the time we go to sleep
We both squeeze the pillows
Apart – but with the same thought
And smile good night…
Is it a good sign?

If my heart beats fast
And yours speeds its limit
Yet we don’t say a word
And nobody knows…
*Does it count?
Far from the wishes of yesterday
I have decided to live the moment, enjoy the present, cherish the unknown.
It feels weird not to know what tomorrow brings
yet it’s a beautiful kind of weird
filled with rose petals and sparkled wine.
It’s strange but I like the feeling of the unknown,
I like not hearing what is loud,
not seeing what is apparent
just because I choose not to.
It gives me power. Peace. Satisfaction.
It makes me the master of my own fate. The captain of my own ship.
Tomorrow might be the best day of my life,
I might find the perfect prince for the night
[ I remind myself not to have any emotional connection at this point ]
I might as well dance the most perfect dance of all.
I don’t know what is going to happen. I don’t want to know.
If at the end of the night, he shows at my door with a red tulip and a smile
I might as well let him in.
I might cherish the sound of the unexpected
and live my undisclosed desires.
But if he is late and I am tired I might turn my back to him and open the eyes to a new story, one I like better… one I enjoy more.
Because at the end of the day everyone gets tired.

**And if it’s all about undisclosed desires and the courage to unfold them, then moon is my witness…for I shall unfold mine one by one
What if your kiss
Would change my life
And my changing life
Would change his dreams
And his different dreams
Would affect her world
While her affected world
Would cause her trouble
And the caused trouble
Would make her cry
And her crying eyes
Would make him feel
And his newborn feelings
Would make his heart beat
And his beating heart
Would make him talk
while his talking mouth
Would make her happy
And her happiness
Would make me angry
And my angriness
Would make you say I LOVE YOU?

It’s just a matter of WHAT IF-s right?


**I see…

— The End —