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Maybe we got wet
Under the same, identical rain.
Maybe we spilled the same tears
Under different bed sheets.
Maybe we thought of each other
Under the same peace of our restless spirits.
Maybe we are broken indeed.
Yet we don’t fit under grey skies
Further away, as far as
your lips from mine
shattered and tenderly split
into sweet pieces of ice.
I wake up these days
Touching the right side of the bed
Looking for your eyes
Where you use to rest your mind
Every and each one of our nights.
But you’re not there. You are not there!
Even if you accompany my dreams
Even more in the coldest evenings.
This morning the rain woke me up
Calling the cold of the sunrise’s wind.
The sheets are ice by now
And so are my pens and hands
That don’t want to write any longer.
Let me love you
Let myself let me go
But do not leave me alone
Because the day
Doesn’t exist anymore.