The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
The blue air,
The sea,
The rocks grunt like television static.
The blue air,
The sea,
And I walk through it all
With only my footprints following me,
Hoping more will join.
But for now,
This is enough;
This silence,
The smell of salt on black moss,
This blood on stepping on some dead shell;
This blood the sea tries to hide
By breathing into the shore
And wiping it off
Again and again.
For now,
This is enough.
I can’t imagine anything more.
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