There’s nothing between Stockholm and Agadir




When it’s plus 6 in Stockholm there’s plus 30
in Agadir. I needed knitted gloves today when
I biked to the grocery store. And I was thinking
of you meantime biking. How are you doing?
The cold iced my legs in jeans when I biked
home again. I was thinking about you. Slowly
rolls our time and I trample and trample my life
in front of me. And I’m still living without you.
For how long will it be? Forever? Plus 6 here
and plus 30 in Agadir and nothing between us,
not even tears. You will not call me. And I will
not call you. I know, I know. And the wheel roll.
No getaway. Later on we’ll be dead and it’ll be
forever, I in Stockholm and you in Agadir.


This entry was posted in borders, create life, dreamers, living in the world, loss, love poem, love story, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, rebellious lovers, relationships, secret love and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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