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I will gather the sunlight.
And with it I will weave a basket.
A tiny and beautiful one.
A gift for you to hide your Dreams inside,
away from Time and Decline.
Hidden behind the window I saw you passing by.
And my breath was lost.
And my heart started beating in the rhythm of your steps.
And when you stopped walking - oh Gods when you stopped!

I saw you turning towards me.
And my heart stopped with you.
It's been years now but
I'm still afraid to look outside of the window,
lest I get lost again in your eyes.
There will be a moment, when you will try to weight the time.
You will count the remaining grains of sand in your hourglass like spare coins in your pocket.
Then, and only then, you will understand that you are in debt.
Don't fool yourself.
The Ferryman always gets what is his.
You will pay.
I dreamt  the most elegant, the most graceful girl of the Worlds.
She had my hair and your lips.
And inside her eyes I could see our soul glaring.
A drop is enough, I think,
to give birth to a flood, to a torrent.
Because what is a river if not a lot of drops.

And a moment,
a moment is enough to change a life.
Because what is a life if not a lot of moments.
Like an ethereal river flowing through memories.

Ah! And the memories!
They burn like sparks in a fire.
None of them is responsible, all of them are innocent.
But the river is still flowing through the blaze.
Your scarlet hair
        like a fire
                like the eternal flame
                        forever
                                will burn me.
Is it love?
When you start writing her name with a razor instead of a pen,
is it still love?
All answers are welcome :)

A side note, this is more of a metaphor for hurting yourself mentally than the actual act.

Thank you very much for your answers.
I am looking in the mirror
every passing day,
and the only thing I can see,
is your absence.
I am repeating with devotion the same mistakes again and again, like a ritual.
As if repeating them would justify them.
I always find myself mesmerized by the smallest of things.
The eternal song of nightingale.
The intoxicating aroma of jasmine.
The tiny raindrop on the edge of your eye.
You have the body of Spring
Your eyes are starry
Glaring
And as you touch with your fingertips the Cosmos,
he holds his breath, full of bliss.

Because life is a mystery
And Truth and Lie are dancers
They step here, they slip there
And they dream
A starry spring night
A caress
A stroll in the sunlit alleys of Paradise.

Because life is a mystery,
but there are no answers.
And humans like galaxies come together.
They twist and twirl.
Trying to understand.
But there's no reason.

Because life is a mystery,
but there is no reason for answers.
Without the mystery there is no life,
there is no dance.
And the dance is beautiful , it's sweet.
And you always learn the steps from someone else.
Never alone.
You never dance alone.
You will always dance together.

You have the body of Spring,
the lost aromas of the far sea.
And inside your heart, the most beautiful dance of all.
I don't know why,
neither I want to know.

Because life is a mystery,
but I don't want the answers.
The lone thing I want is to dance,
but I don't want to dance alone.
For my dancing partner,
I don't want to dance alone.
I wish you were here tonight.
To hold me.
To share my breath.
I wish you were here tonight,
instead of this merciless memory.
Our aromas, intoxicating and blended.
Engraving eternally our memories.

You nails sunk deep in my flesh
and our breaths are one.

We are alive
Your lips seductive, as always,
whisper my name
and I answer from point blank ,
I'm grateful.
Your name a divine poem full of melody.
Capable to ****** all the demons, one by one.
And first of all the most ancient one,
Eros.
Eros is the ancient Greek god of love and desire.
And yes he would be seduced by that name.

— The End —