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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 25, 2016

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Submitted: September 25, 2016



It was there
we ate:
that long place
with a bar
at one side
and chairs
and tables
and so on
on the other.

We sat
and talked,
and you ate
like you had
never eaten before.

I wanted to know
where you had been,
but you were
reluctant to say,
you wanted talk
of whatever
I had done
that day.

But you were
in dark places,
and your mood
was like one in a hell
or such place.

I said:
how are you?

And you said:
beyond words,
a place my mind
seems in darkness,
and the only light
is your eyes.

I smiled,
but then
I saw you
and how dark
your eyes were.

I thought
of that time
in the hotel
that cheap place
in Paris,
and we had
made love
three times
in a row
(after resting).

The last time
you said:
there are angels
at the foot
of the bed.

I laughed,
then we went
into the small room
and both together
we bathed.

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