We are shaken like socks
In a washing machine
Started on an early morning
Of July.
I feel you, my love,
Near but thorn,
present but distracted,
But always similar.
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Tag: finding
Don’t abandon me
In this green forest with hidden lives and rumors.
The sun its high and the heat a curse
For an animal like me
Whose skin is gentle and the soul pale.
With no reference and no voice,
Only a new path is possible
And of already started behind me.
I am starving today
For those warm afternoons running in the fields
And those silent evenings reflecting on a book.
Food for the avid mind
And food for the temperamental belly
Do not overlap
And are complementary.