We were cleaning each other tears with our hands and kisses,  and today we clean the rests of jam and sauces  from our familiar faces in the comfort of our last moments.
The minutes to the departure which seemed to break us,  never managed to take our sense nor patience,
as when things  are so important that you hardly believe in their logic of attracting with a power that no one has given a chance.
I doubt I deserved this amount of joy.
But they doubted in the ability to take the suffer of what is unknown.
So perhaps we are all mistaken creating uncertainties and leaving too early.
And if there is more happiness on the other side of the gate... Then I only wish we could cross it together.

The bedroom walls don the shadows of the falling snowflakes
Through the window boughs swing heavy with crystals
Shimmering in the muted light of the crescented moon
Tracks of invisible animals impressed into that white
A wind whistling through empty corridors of an abandoned house
With a chandelier twisting in the ecstatic breeze
Flurries whipping frantically through that chilled air
Winter

"How was your night?"

Drinking,
as usual,
to numb the constant,
dull hum,
of emptiness,
crying by myself,
at the back of the club,
watching my beautiful friends,
with the perfect faces,
find somebody to hold
and love for the night.
Going home by myself,
staring out the smudgy window of the taxi,
wondering if I'll ever make the journey with somebody next to me,
a hand to hold.
Getting into bed as dawn breaks,
just as my heart does the same.

"Fine."