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,
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,
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,
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.
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
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.