To my grandlove

The last time when I fell in love,
I was counting in the wrinkles on your belly,
The ages of hunger, and of overweight…

It was lunchtime,
when I proposed.
But you…
You were too old,
and too slow
to respond.

The rest … is haze.

I think,
I just stood there,
Waiting for the first lightning,
To bestow on me the shape of time.

Carried down by winds to your beginning,
I could see all the future,
Which has already been.

Or maybe,
Maybe I just left,
Moved on, away.
And now I’m falling down with other raindrops…

I’m getting closer, close, to understanding…
to a selfie stick,
and 7 billion cameras,
the timeless poem,
the hope of joy,
the breath of life:


When I am done, my love, must promise you will hide me,
At dinner time:
I’ll be another wrinkle on your belly.

One thought on “To my grandlove”

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