Dear Kindred soul.

At heart I am pretty sure,

I will never get the chance to tell you any of this.


Neither the chemistry,

I felt on every part of my skin.

The warming shivers,

that shake my pink and spring waiting heart,

when we first met.


Nor how you made me feel

spreading your twirling light and wild fire,

deep down, body and heart.


Neither the roads you opened,

standing on your sweet boldness.

Nor the energy you gave,

handing over strength

and dreams and leaping potentials.

Your laughing world of thoughts,

to me.


I am almost certain you’ll probably never know

to what extent, and for how long,

our shimmering recollections

have hoisted on my cheeks,

such a festive smile.


Was it days, months

or maybe years?

I can’t even recall

when it, when we started,

you see.


Time is a treacherous joker.

Isn’t it misrepresenting our reality?

Placing kindred souls

so far away on its merciless calendars

while the mind still recalls,

draws the thread of the past

weaves extensions from it,

a while, such a long while after,

time speaks.



the heart still jolts,

the soul still dances

its most rousing summer melodies,

when you come around for an imaginary wander.


Even if I know I may see you again in the tangible world

Deep down, I doubt it.


You shall remember,

we had been placed

on that same road by the hands of destiny

by our friends the loving stars,

and I don’t know

if they would play their divine trick,

on us, once again.


Even if I bump

into your light-green gaze

I do know

I will never see “you” again.


Of course I could catch a glimpse of you,

as a shape or an outline

walking down a well-known street.


But I get the feeling,

and it is killing my entire gentle and childish heart,

my sensitive skin

its warm recollections of your own contours,

I will not reach the former you,

your well-known reflection.


If it is meant to be like this,

I’d rather not see you again.


No, I prefer to remember

our yesteryear soul connections,

Your hands in mine

as ribbons to my heart,

our sacred vestiges of an old past


Our beautifully buried recollections.


All of these still live,

inside my velvet secret box.

Defying time,

its cold and claimed reality.


In that jewelry case of my heart,

you have been put in line

or shall I say on top,

among all the kindred spirits of all times.


You simply dazzle,

the center of the whole limelight

as shiny as our rainbow moments,

brilliant as your words

their waving echo,

a sweet ballet dancing of my mind.


I prefer keeping you there

not to fade our past,

with a less lovely novelty.


I don’t need the new you.

He must be altered by time,

by the mysteries life put on his road,

Its whispered follies.



maybe we will meet again



Admittedly that’s true

It wouldn’t be you, me, us anymore,

life doesn’t preserve.

It moves, shapes, destroys

and rebuilds its garden.


But, who knows?

There’s a chance our beings

could get on well,

Some kind of us could be reborn

if you bring an incredible magic wand.


Maybe our former magnet

would inexorably gather us again.

Your smoldering looks,

would still remember

how to fondle my body and soul.

You would undress my heart,

your expert touch.


You would read

behind my impish and smiley eyes

and this wavy hair you loved that much,

messed by the same sun

the same wind,

these genuine thoughts of mine.


And I can feel now,

writing these unexpected lines

of eager words,

I would be happy if we met again.


To catch your words,

spruce and arabesque music.

Feel your rainbow skin,

receive the enveloping smiles

That time,

elsewhere than in daydreams.


Where are you hiding?

That space between

the strength of the past

and the promise of the future?


I will meet you there.



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