Missing Piece

— — — - — — — — — — — — — open-here — — — — — — — — - — — —

Your words are like crystal flares,

fueling up the heart of a dying star.

Who will believe me? If I said — your presence is felt all over the universe,

across Saturn’s ring and Neptune’s deep blue.

I like to think of your words as a trident,

best for describing life, love,

and other unexplained things,

Poseidon regretted at the first fall of Athens.

Those sad songs that are about longings,

capsizes the ability of the pouring rain,

to decide where new lovers,

should have their first kiss.

As for us, these words are enough,

to keep us at a distance between spaces,

where we hide ourselves from betrayals and mistrust.

The sky refuses to reveal a reflection,

of the answers I seek to find.

So, I ponder at the edge of the sea,

where the hurricane’s torrent eats up the shore,

to fulfill the promise written in a sailor’s dying will.

Similar to the promise,

of your words to me — to take pieces of the world,

to fill up my emptiness.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — end — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{series continues in my next post}