It was a damp and curiously sunny afternoon,
two of what couldn’t be together,
as a peaceful act of vengeance…,
trembling trees of unforgiveness,
we swallowed each moments nectar
and it made us drunk…, of life,
of meaning and the mass of many things,
lighter than a feathers touch,
it was too damp and too sunny…,
curious - I might say.
Then time went by,
men sat on their crooked chairs,
pinetrees were smoothly waving
the cold mornings goodbye…,
as something was left unsaid,
a lovers touch, a souls kiss,
a Devils handshake…,
and the wrinkled newspaper
thrown into dumpsters pit,
regular irregularities.
Old Pinus was a dancer,
he placed baby trees with such care
as holding someone close to his chest,
as giving his heart piece by piece…,
all that was heard was a calm sigh,
nothing more was born that day.
Two or more of us died after that,
not from mnemonia or other written diseases,
but something of a more spiritual kind,
a souls journey…,
the spaces between the visible
and invisible,
since non of us knew the issue at hand
and even if it was truly an issue…,
we wrote it off as something mystical
and never spoke of it again,
just perceived each our own change,
in heart, body, mind and soul,
Old Pinus was there…,
as all of us.
Some of those days passed by with extreme speed,
like a catcher in the rye…,
to our very own Eye,
just as we were about to be born again,
from all that moss,
covering the rocks like small hats,
Remembrence Of Things Past,
not in times convoluted space,
but of love and life,
that the Mother of this world gifts,
the aspartame kiss…,
Neon dreams.
Full pledged flag hand,
holding the sun in its wake,
oh what a sight to behold,
and a memory flooded
the gates of Tartarus…,
as we were walking all rivers,
with the flies, birds and the bees.
Saturday
the 17th of January, 2026
