Whiter than possibly can be

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I
”You better decide what you want”,
he wrote me. But I had already and
told him and I have nothing to add.

I know well what I want, but what I
want is not available and not possible.
I know what he wants – he keeps on
writing to me to keep us in touch.

I don’t bother, but I talk to him you
in my head:

“You are not the one I thought you
would be and I am not the one you
thought me to be.”

“Sure I love you, but who are you?
Zorro? Phantom of the Opera?”

“ What if ….”

II

What if “life” had provided me with a lover
simple and nice, like a salesman working at
the local Supermarket nearby I live – packing
my plastic bags with bread and cheese, tells
me a “have a good day!” with a plain smile?!

And then I think life has not been fair to me!

And then I walk to the Supermarket and
outside the entrance sits as usual a beggar
on the cold and wet tarmac. It’s one of those
poor gypsy women from Rumania.

And she reach out her hand, saying “please”.

And who am I complaining: ”life is not fair”,
I ask myself?

And I return home after shopping, eat my
dinner and take a nap and I get a dream…

III

I am travelling to a place to see someone
(special). There are rooms and phones
not connected, people and people and all
in confusion… Lastly I end up on a bus –
but all I want now is to get a flight back
home but I was given milk, lots of sweet
pouring milk….

…milk I had to pour over in bottles. I fails,
filling them over the brim and I try to save
the flowing milk in new bottles, it’s all messy…

IV

And I wake up with all this very white and
sweet milk over my hands and in my mouth.
And all this whiteness is pure overflowing
and overwhelming sad pain, a pain whiter
and sadder than anything possibly can be.

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This entry was posted in love story, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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