Can it be that a column never falls

and a heart never ceases to beat for another?

That a bubble of air never bursts

and a smile never begins to depart?


Gone I am from the days I have known

and from those who once gave me food.

A life of one’s own too real to be good.


A little everyday

everyday a little

of you and of me on a page, in a cloud

in the rubble of my neighbourhood

in the rules for us to follow or to break

in the music of your dreams

and the infinite silence of your thoughts.


I never knew of a life so sad

nor of such pain gathered in the body of a child.

I never knew of so much violence hidden in so deep a love

of a mother, of a lover

nor of such loyalty as in a dog’s gesture

of such absence in a empty bed

or of such comfort in the light touch of a cat.


watercolour by yzagor

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