Unwittingly I let you fall
and hid you in a verse,
and now I'm still searching for you
throughout the universe.
Anoche me preguntaste,
"¿por qué me besaste?"
y con el siguiente pensamiento
floreciendo en mi mente,
yo te contesté que
"mi amor por ti
no admite demora."
I live soulsick
on the wrong side of the road,
where the dog **** on the pavement
dampens the unfathomable beauty
that is this city’s beating heart.
Yet I met this girl in the rain
who’d dropped ham and eggs
on her way home from the shops.
Not thinking, I broke through
the barrier that we who live here
***** on a daily basis
in metros, markets, and museums,
and I carried her shopping home.
I spoke of the weather,
how it was like home for me,
and she was gobsmacked
at this unselfish display.
“How can I thank you,” she asked,
“just do this for another,”
I replied with a light heart
and I still remember the sincerity
of her grateful smile,
all the while thinking
“Gosh you’re so pretty behind your mask,”
as I walked away from her flat
at the end of day.
Here on a bed I know too well,
I still think of that lovely girl.
There are no words to save me
from thoughts of what might have been.
It's a cold and lonely universe.
(And so nice to avoid this fact.)
Stare death in the eyes.
See what stares back.
Rain in November–
A sad boy under a tree.
(That sad boy is me.)
There's nothing in my pocket
but for a smile and the hope
that it'll last a while.

Hiding from my depression
in the space between dark thoughts,
I watch the trees lose their leaves,

and thinking of the struggle for joy
that has plagued my life since I was a boy,
I dry the tears on my sleeves.

Yet all of this is soon forgotten
as the seasons change along with my mood.
Brooding is worth nothing in this floating world.
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