Words like tears,
they flow on the face of the time
in a not existing space,
made of intervals,
built on pauses.
They like an absent minded caress,
a not too caring one,
stroke my heart from the depth,
envelope my soul,
drag me elsewhere.
I don’t complain,
I gave you this power,
and I listen , I listen , I listen….
One day I will stop to listen.
And you will miss it.
