there is no day
that i do not think of you..
sometimes just the smell in the air seems familiar, reminds me of
moments when i was breathing your presence
sometimes it is the touch of the usb rope
that u gave me with all those videos on it
sometimes i look at myself and remember
this red sweater was given to me by you
did i ever tell you i love to wear it
on my naked skin
it feels so good knowing it was once
carried by your hands..
sometimes it is just something you said to me
that i notice it echoes within me
sometimes, it is ur smile in my mind
the fire in your eyes the darkness of ur
beautiful soul..
i hear..
u moved on..
u have another son..
u r happy with her
she is in good relationship
with ur ex wife
and your three kids
it makes u satisfied
is it true?
i have no idea
why i doubt that...
i want to believe u moved away from that cursed place where
we loved each other
as i am fully aware it is the past
that five years of dust
covered diligently
yet,
u are still in my heart
and somehow, sometimes
i know i am still in yours...
Photo: Salvador Dali: Persistence of Memory, 1931.
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memory. Show all posts
If Serbia stops now...
I will never forget you..
Hope to meet you once in that future where you wanted to lead us...
R.I.P.
Shadows played on the walls
in front and behind the eyes
night filled with the memories
wondering
was it heaven ..or hell
it sounds like hell
a friend of mine told me
but
did she knew you
as I did...
Sometimes I feel his fragrance.. It winds around me like a fog, memory of his presence, of his mild smile and love that was radiating from his eyes while he was looking at me.. Some unstoppable fog, very fine and penetrating like radiation.. It goes through my skin, comes into the smallest cell of my heart, into drops of blood that are running through my veins, it overflows my thoughts with the soft note of his voice, his touch..
I am wondering, sometimes, did that really happen.. Maybe it was all just a glimpse of a song of some forgotten tribe from the North.. Maybe it was all just a poetry, folded over reality as a part of some different world, slightly opened, on an inappropriate, forbidden way..
Is that important?
Is it really important if the game was fair or not, by the rules set by someone else but us, someone who didn't ask if we agree. Would I do it all over again, or I'd run away strongly guiding thick walls of this stone tower into which inner space no one had access. Nobody. Until him. Then.
I had no chance. Why am I smiling while thinking of that...
It was too beautiful...
Too real, more real then a life, it seems. That beauty didn't ask for approval, didn't need an excuse, didn't condition anything, it just WAS, radiating like the Sun.. Who could resist it..
And yet if it was a dream, maybe it was my dream, and I have dreamed it till the end.. I wanted that, I chose that I want, that is why my heart is peaceful now, and there is no repentance in it, or accusation for anything.. Maybe only thankfulness.. Although it is hard now.. Even, not that hard any more..
written on 17th of March, 2005.
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