That old dusty knowledge

from the reliable things

testemonies, old recipes

and not growing serenities.

The mainstream legend

as become nothing but a story.

Wish I was back in the days

we easily shared words like – sorry

Memory boxes all over the place

all those papers and objects that I keep

clues of others, figures of me

diving into shameless. All too deep.

Back in the days

I was learning how to walk

and walking was easy

Now, maps and new roads

make other step seem to greedy.

Back in the days

where that sweet home wasn´t away

cozy blankets and hot chocolate

used to make my day

Today is just the same house,

same beds, same cups

not the same faces, other shoulder

Wish I was back in the days life was slower.

And it all seemed like a repeating song

which I cannot/ never would be tired of

murmuring sweat voices my years collect.

My closing eyes see. Clearly. So soft.


2 thoughts on “17h51

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