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About

Portraits of time, time when i was the way i am
Published:
Simple war
 

and out from the woolen threads 
my hairs was made,
eyes as hazel as it could get 
but could only stare 
forever into the soul
that - 
you never made. 

And I don't know why I was decorated so well 
that one could buy ! 
Every pedestrians when pass by
make faces
to that creature without the soul,
framed so well.  
but will they ever know that I already know ? 
 
Oh and now someone leaves me on the table, 
hurridly, she sits in front of mirror, 
looks at me every now and then 
and draws that five moles exactly the same way
and she looks at me again
as if it meant I had to look
at the process of me while being created, 
Oh, one with the soul, 
why you want to look alike 
 to the one without the soul ? 





 
This never ending tales of hands, hands that couldn't rest 
to make more memories on the ground of our skin 
from where we used to see the light of sky,
remember? 
 
I never wished you did 
 
oh ! you are fading away 
deeply into the winter of lies 
it's so cold there
that you hibernate forever 
 
and in that never ending tales of  my hands, 
you will be frozen by time
where your ice will never melt.
 
 
 
 
 
million faces of you dancing before you 
every face dances like never before ,
every other time, so beautifully 
to get the pearl covered inside the shell 
 
 
 
It won't be the same.
Because you won't be the same. 
Time was neither you nor me
but
if we could stop time for once
and be able to look at us twice; 
you being you, me being me
again- you being me, me being you
then,
perhaps, it all would remain the same. 
 
oh.. if we could stop.....
stop that fastly flying time !
 
 
 
WILL YOU
BE ABLE TO READ IT AS A MEMORY
IF I WRITE?
IF I WRITE IT ALL DOWN HERE.