I walk through the future holding your hand

A love poem

Oct 30, 2020

Barefoot I pray to a God whose name I don’t know

The rain washes our hearts engraved in the wood

The child is the flower of tears and of sweet blood

It’s not love that we want

It’s the resurrection of dead

Tempests unleashed by the birds in the sky

The breaths that the sea kills with her looks

Your hands and the sin we will never commit

The room that we rented is empty and cold

You know that I came

You feel that I left

I scream I love you

Red cherries and mushrooms fall from a plate

Black coffee waits for the sunrise of us

And the future runs in the past