Thing Called Love

I see couples fly in the square.
Beautiful hearts pulsate through the polluted air.

Two hands joined in one hug.
Two stories packed into one bag.

Rainy September.
Foggy December.

Walking anywhere.
No matter what happens, they don’t care.

Sweet, noisy kiss.
In the elevator, under the pink trees.

Young couples.
Mature couples.
Skinny couples.
Red hair couples.

In daylight.
In a dusty night.

The faces are looking gorgeous.
The world beside them acts unconceious.

Sometimes I wonder how.
Can someone fall in love.

I see two different human beings.
Drowning in a puddle soaked in various things.

I speak from my own experience.
Long-term victim with no visible evidence.

Sometimes wondering what keeps them together.
Hope, or a signed letter.

I heard, that opposites attract.
My opinion – wrong fact.

If someone believes in a gigantic cute unicorn.
What connects him to a person practicing evil in its worst form?

Maybe I have too high standards.
Despite the truth, I play with the worst cards.

Maybe I’m too naive.
Where and how do I live.

Yes, in love, there is an indescribable power.
Allowing, with ease, to jump over the highest tower.

Actually, even the biggest underdog feels like a sweet lollipop.
Wishing that the moment would never stop.

Yeah, I should have married a beautiful princess at eighteens.
And conceiving two children in my twenties.

MMM. Eternal love from our teenage years.
Honey, smile, grilled green beans.

It would be great.
But it’s too late.

I missed an opportunity.
Couples around me are buying condos in the most expensive areas of a city.

They are taking huge loans.
They are building layers around themselves – heavy stones.

They are creating smart girls and boys.
Their shopping baskets filled with diapers and toys.

Now? Fantastic.
And will it also be in 10, 12, 20 years, real or plastic?

I’d probably be divorced.
And it would be worse.

Because I’m not able.
To remain stable.

Goals, perspectives, views, values.
Own existence mentally abused.

The reason of evolving.
As a result – growing.

Therefore, no empty promise dedicated to a wooden stamp.
No certainty the vote will go to Mr. Trump.

The desire, the need to taste all the ingredients.
Before the kids ruin their dad’s favourite pants.

Occasionally feelings like my attorney.
Exhausted and lonely.

Imagining spending time with a beautiful lady.
Her name – Katy.

We’re running together in the honest forest.
We’re helping each other as if each of us were a special guest.

We’re sacrificing our comfort to build a thriving charity.
We’re clearing the ocean until there’s some semblance of clarity.

At the end, we’re lying on the roof, admiring the yellow stars.
Fingers, lips dirty, thanks to massive chocolate bars.

MMM. Realistic.
Or optimistic.

Actually, is there anybody?
Having a similar hobby?

Or is everyone obsessed with collecting dead objects?
Tormenting our deep identity in a more intense way than tiny insects.

Closed, huge glass shops.
Trying on new silk hats.

Sharing raunchy photos capturing boobs and the beach.
Idle, metal straw, crystal, imported peach.

The expectation of fast Italian cars.
Meanwhile, French make-up covers up childhood scars.

Maybe I represent another vision.
Or a heart focused on the wrong decision.

I may always be alone.
Destined to finish it on my own.

In every case, the determination to spread love.
With frostbite, uncovered, unappreciated one glove.

A diamond ring buried under the dirt in the garden.
I’m not a prince on a white horse – pardon.