a joke

there are these
(small)
moments
when she laughs

unaware,
unrestrained,

like a thousand
crimson flowers
staining the air where she sits,
blooming in the brightest corner
of a forgotten shop
in Landen Square.

and in these moments,
when the rain collides with ground,
and stuns the dust,
it's enough to forget
the small miseries that
colors our lives.

the progression of things so carefully planned;

I

if these feelings knew
the secrecy of paper,
and the
brevity of ink,
if they only wanted
the liberation of
vacant air,
then i would have no need
for companions,
or a heart that
beats too much;


II

i do not wish for things
to further entangle themselves,
in feelings and
mishaps-

i do not wish for
unexpected, yet
normal
complications.

i want the night
to always settle and
turn,
the way it has been
when my headlights reverse,
i want the expectations to
mold itself into a
very simple kiss-
without selfishness nor
posession:

i want these things to
stay the way
theyhavebeen
without the fears of losing
an unbeknownst trust.

i do not wish
for something bigger than
we both share.


III

stay as you are;
without feelings,
[ that delve into the
core of me ]
or
disappointment.

stay curious,
flesh and
strange,
new eyes that
seek confirmation
yet
averts with the light-

stay as you came,
charming,
unaware and
harmless-
where your questions cannot
bruise,
and you have not
the need to
persuade...