Tomorrow will be 10 years
from that casual day
which started with us and cheap telenovellas
and ended with me holding you,
breathless
for few hours, in a locked apartment.
Reality re-questioning.
Such a meaningful day, such a meaningless life.
I'm not sure I would know what to tell you
If you would meet me today,
Not sure you would have what to be proud of,
because
I don't strive to my achievements
per aspera ad astra,
I don't play piano
anymore,
And I would rather be invited to a brothel
Than to the palace of kings.
It's always about me, right?
Because you are the one who moved on.
(Do you ever get a chance to glimpse at us
through dimensions?)
I've visited you today, you know,
following the hollow cemetery ceremonies of humankind.
Meaningless symbolism.
Visited also that beautiful girl I knew,
a friend of a friend,
who managed to go away on the same date as you.
Symbolism, again.
I never believed one of you would ever hear or answer
or even appreciate.
You would not even remember, probably -
Just wake up one morning,
Watching a different sunset
with different eyes.
(I don't need hugs or cheering,
because it is not about sadness -
I'm blooming, but meaningless,
And not sad at all -
It's like being in love with the universe
When you're the last astronaut in the outer space)
Bombs have been dropped.
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