My White Blood

My white blood is flowing

against the tide.

My time is missing your porcelain heart.

Help me understand

the pain that, instead of tears,

brings soft dreams,

cruelly wounded lies.

 

For several generations,

my heart has been following

its own path, it does not look for

road signs, it does not need air.

 

Teach me some

of the most important words

in human language.

Let me wear

my most beautiful tears.

 

I am afraid that one day

the sky will bend under the weight of

the stars, that the night will pass

as quickly as a false truth,

as an unnecessary faith

in loneliness.