I
The absence of air
affects the lungs,
which stop inflating,
and kills the subject of illusions.
The absence of love,
which is not so fatal,
immortalizes the unemotional
and ponders if in heaven he must be put.
There's a longing
as wilting as flowers
and as old as happiness.
There are colors
which together paint my town
with praises and pains.
II
There's a new effect:
creepy like fear,
fragile since early
and sad when undone.
There's a new now
which arrives in mind
and explores in it
everything what feels
The absence of us
saddens the unhappy
when there are no advantages,
The absence of what I did,
done alone,
makes useless what is said about flowers.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
I
The absence of air
affects the lungs,
which stop inflating,
and kills the subject of illusions.
The absence of love,
which is not so fatal,
immortalizes the unemotional
and ponders if in heaven he must be put.
There's a longing
as wilting as flowers
and as old as happiness.
There are colors
which together paint my town
with praises and pains.
II
There's a new effect:
creepy like fear,
fragile since early
and sad when undone.
There's a new now
which arrives in mind
and explores in it
everything what feels
The absence of us
saddens the unhappy
when there are no advantages,
The absence of what I did,
done alone,
makes useless what is said about flowers.
