Tu

I least think of you when you are near,

but not here.

I perish the thoughts, let them be gone with the wind

and whirls of unspoken whispers, on air spinned.

I let the reality awaken my daydreaming on purpose,

to involve my mind wholeheartedly, for protection porous.

I slide down away from the wind caressing my skin and hair,

thinking it was you, in despair.

I empty the cup of my soul wherever I can,

half-spill my glass of wine, sure it was just a span.  

Probudim se raščupana u sred dana,

pregršt osećanja nedoživljenih, a proživljenih.

45 15 0 N, 19 51 0 E

210506082015

Listen to: yourself