A Prologue

I plunge into breaths

of unwanted hearts.

I lend jagged pieces of words

to desolate imaginations.

 

Since you entered my age,

since you made yourself at home

among ashen lips,

the sky has a raspberry flavor,

and the clouds smell like

an unfinished childhood.

 

In a coma, crushed by

a stone of desires,

I consume your senses,

your torn ideas.

Let's wake up with fresh kisses

on the smooth, slippery skin

of dreams.

 

Why do named thoughts bring

a sad silence

instead of this faded Sun?

Love flows again in veins

I carved in white marble.

 

Since I understood the final step,

pain has become a prologue.