a flat white cools
far too quickly
for prolonged enjoyment
steaming the window
above the table
where it rests
next to it
my latest trial
of literature
at times
lengthy of word
ponderous
but probing
while others
lesser
   in page number
though not
   in meaning
brief yet pointed
but always
formidable enough
in name
   or title
to impress
a wandering eye

You see her walking through the halls,
You don't see how she put up her walls.

If you see her at home in her room,
You can see the cuts that begin to bloom.

She's good at putting up the public smile,
You'd never understand why she goes through the trial.

She seems to always be with the stars,
But that's only because you've never seen the scars.

I feel your shivers nestling inside me,
The trace of your embrace, I want to cry
Amid old dreams, I wonder
And I don't wonder, I run, and don't run,
Why are you coming?

Your breath touches my hand,
I cling to your whisper,
Sitting at the table, asleep by the mystery
You love the white paper,

We meet în the same thought, on the same line,
In the same letter,
We embrace in the same word, in oblivion.