I was not sure when I first saw him because we weren’t meant to be together in a poetry. But when he hugged me he became something, he brought something to me, to my breath, to my existence.

Those candles drawing our shadows
on the silent wall at 11pm
We were there again
Drinking that wine,
Playing that game

Strangers and adventurers
You can’t shackle the air
Doesn’t matter who we are or who we were
It’s a privilege to be quiet by your side
Maybe that’s something in our Gemini

Our many personalities gather together
you tell me your story and it feels like mine
Or maybe we have met before
In a different life or even in Dicey’s
⁃ Chris, mad you are!

Laughing at the top of the lungs silently
Vino banco dolce and whispering
There’s no surface for who is deep
Although we don’t belong to anyone or anywhere
My hands still find something on your skin

These streets have so many names
And people, they’re just the same
But there’s nothing ordinary about him
I know it’s hard to believe
That it’s a non-romantic poem

(I think I love the orange candle
That doesn’t smell any orange
Can you candle this?)

Poems in English

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