maybe i said ‘i love you’ too soon,
well, now that you’re gone
i guess i can say it once again:
‘i love you,
for the fun of it’.

new life,
new summer,
new lover,
new love song,
i’m aware it’s wrong but i sing along anyway,
now that i’ve found someone two times better,
geometrically,
and just overall,
it’s a summertime thing but i sing along anyway,
shortly i’m about to move away
like a yacht on a wave,
headed towards a lighthouse.

you lit up my path,
so now i grasp happiness,
prettily abloom.

life is simple but
some things are clear in the dark,
in the soft moonlight.

art is made to store feelings, so they get covered in snow and uncovered again by the sun rays.

even when you pilot
you disregard the storm clouds ahead,
like if my navigation was enough
for our circumnavigation to work out properly,

and even when you pilot
we keep all of our maps fold,
like our compasses out of sight,
is it because no manmade object has an ability
to mess with that powerful force called ‘love’?
and isn’t it strange we don’t care
everyone’s saying we don’t deserve what we’re getting,
even though we both know they are absolutely right?
we live our lives like dreams,
adventure video games,
we’re born dreamers wearing fancy sunglasses
which allow us to perceive the world in a different filter
than anyone else,
we spend our days cruising aimlessly,
leaving clutter behind and writing stories,
living metaphorically in a world of ataraxia,

even when you pilot,
we disregard the vicious reality,
how?
we invented our own and painted it yellow and blue,
we ditched the universal way of thinking
and now we fly like sparrows made of steel,
we merrily punch nimbi,
catch cyclones into jars,
live metaphorical lives,
watching the obstacles that made the others surrender
abate on the ground,

we live our lives like dreams,
born dreamers,
born artists,
in a world of absolute distortion and dual existence,
in which toxic water and crystal clear water meet
but never blend into each other,
and only we know about this,
because only we have access to our minds and our rose gardens,
we travel above lavender fields,
oceans both raging and calm,
we do nothing in particular,
just writing an epic story,
it’s an ooze - a beautiful ooze,

though it was never our job to care about tomorrow or the past,
and now it’s finally the clearest it can get,
so set another sail,
let’s circumnavigate,
though it’s a brand new day.

you go in and out of my head like it’s a coffee shop,
day or night,
warm or cold.

you gifted me red roses,
but they withered to black,
i wasn’t a proper water source
to keep them alive.

summertime,
in our yard,
cherries reddening in the big sun,
the skies have reached the peak of blueness,
bluer than last year,
when we were lying under sycamore trees
with our minds wandering around at cloud level,
blasting our favourite music and singing along to it,
that i called life,
that i call the future.

sometimes i wonder:
what if you didn’t
take my happiness away,
but made me realise
that i never had it,
you taught me how to
actually fight for it,
when you broke my heart
and soul into pieces,
...
and here i am,
happy without you.

a clear, rapid stream
runs across a vast grassland
into the blackness.

ivy climbing up
the wall of an old town house,
no rush, no pressure.

hello gardener,
you do not fear my poison,
yours is just deadlier.

my dear tangerine
described my sadness as sweet
arizona dream.

when we were kids we used to play outside every day,
from dawn till dusk,
we used to blow dandelions and watch their seeds
fly in all directions,
we were letting the wind carry them like delivery,
to random places,
where they lived the rest of their simple lives,
it fascinated me,

when we were little we saw the world through
heart-shaped sunglasses,
we used to stay up late playing football in the yard,
and build treehouses,
now we buy neither lollipops nor fruit jelly beans,
but cigarettes,
i used to jump in my unmade bed, full of excitement,
but not anymore,

when we were kids we were careless and happy,
we wore smiles like every day,
we saw the world through star-shaped sunglasses,
from dawn till dusk we played,

everyone was happy back then.

in summer i like to sit on my wooden patio
and watch the cars passing by
in the distance,
on the main road,
in the scorching sun,
hotter than in california,
between deciduous trees,
greener than ever,
i get a piece of crumpled paper
and a pen with black ink,
i describe the cars passing by on the road,
red,
yellow,
green,
black,
you must be in the air.