jueves, 25 de agosto de 2016

what remains

I found a kiss in the rubble today
where the machines went by.
They didn't put a gift shop
or a parking lot there.
Another house, is all, a new one
in which you never lived,
and the sofa where you laughed
was taken somewhere else.

I found a kiss in the rubble.
It wasn't dusty and didn't feel
like it was novel, either.
A cyclist went by, so careless
he didn't notice how important it was,
and an old lady looked and wondered
but did not dare to ask.

I found a kiss in the rubble
and the day began anew.
It was as though the months swirled
and the clouds of August 
flew off to February, and 
they took all the tourists out 
to fill the gaps in the city

I found a kiss in the rubble.
I'm carrying it home with me
so you can come and take it back.