tremble

I started writing letters to you

produce movies with elaborate dialogues and characters

wrote songs and poems

in my head

So many things I would like to say

but never had a breath

nor a brief moment

or even a glance to share with you

They tell to me fight

or let go

they tell me to distract

or focus on myself

and all these things I do

learning to accept

is the burial of hope

is the birth of

I wouldn't know

what ought to be born

as I would not dare to call it new

as it has always been me

I still write letters

and start with dear

and sometimes I am angry

but usually thrilled

being certain that this is it

but days or weeks later

I catch myself in slow motion

leading hand to heart

trying to hide the tremble

starting to loathe this moment

this bloody dear moment

when I lead your hand to my heart

to whisper these words

I might never say again.

And again we try to avoid

pathos and lethargy

And I follow the advice

in exactly this order

fight, let go, discract and focus

over and over again

just to realize that I could burn

the little remebrance

and let their ashes evaporate and disperse

into what we understand under eternity

unfortunately we do not understand eternity

at least not me

and I don't know where to put these ashes

as they keep floating around my head

keep on reuniting to new letters

all starting with dear and ending sincerly

and making me tremble

and then loathe again

and yes, I tremble

but feet stand firm

on a ground which shakier

would be difficult to find.

And then I tremble upon memory

empty vessels of long forgotten beats

this is gone, this is past

these ashes, these bloody old ashes

a smile got lost upon my lips

this little wrinkle almost forgotten

found its way back to my heart

I only tremble in joy and bliss.

Gone is what gone is

poems and movies might come

but they won't carry your name

I shared my breath with eternity.