by Andrada Costoiu
On a hill covered with yellow flowers
One more dandelion has lost its fluff in the wind
Over my wishful thinking.
It smells like grass and newness,
As spring is blowing its wind of perfection over this side of the world.
Oceans, seas, hills and mountains between us,
I still hear your heartbeat,
What would I do without it?
It may have been easier for Socrates and Aristotle,
To exhaust the problems of everything and anything,
Then it is for a lover to explain the world without the other.
I do excavations every day….
And as there is grace in all created things,
I find it also in the archeology of my memory.
All moments have language, smiles, smells,
They have you…
From afar you enter my burning solitude,
And make me feel alive.
I should carry a dagger to scare away the night,
Because I don’t dream of you every time I’m asleep.
How do I love you from afar?
My thinking puts forth no fruit,
But my heat does…. I just do.
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