poemúm

When will love come about

Like in circles

Around

For leaving

An unvanishable mark to

These dark generations

To come?

I refuse to investigate

And instead of

Losing  slightly more oxygen

You prefer to

Leave a blueprint on the sand

And bring the pearls

To your very own room

So a key falls

And he hides rapidly

He pretends to have seen the unbearable

Making the underside of the table

The refugee of a battle