you stumbled over the difficult words, you did what you should not have done, your eyes sighed, you dropped the bottles, you got lost in the woods, you did not answer the call, you only knew how to do that, to do what you should not have done.
let my will melt in the coldness of August, shake off the dust of regret when you open the window, looking at you through the eyes of the rain, a little sad, like tears on the window.
did not want to be dragged
in this senseless conversation
which had nothing to do
with the purpose of the day
it looked like a notebook which would have rebelled, a notebook with strange lines, to write crookedly, stories to make people laugh to tears, or tall tales, to write upside down words that would hold back tears and stories that touched souls.
The weather will go
from warm to cold, from mild to
stiff, from withdrawal
to the abysses of the world
and the too cold hands