There was something missing this morning. Sun is hiding, love; Balconies are empty. There's no woman hanging their laundry. They know maybe it will rain. Fear is not my best friend. I laugh at everything these days. I laugh at lie's, being hungry, being broke, being alone, looking for resolution. I am laughing at myself. How in my short life my heart always stayed loyal to one man. I have been writing about love, leavings and coming backs in two tongues. So you could maybe understand. No...This weather is funky...Always gray. If you're too good, talk about peace to much, they kill you! Love, Every prophet, every lover, every thinker gets killed. If people doesn't kill you alcohol or drugs will kill the peace maker. I don't even smoke. Forget it, I'm like a passive smoker.. Our love was like that I guess. I inhaled you once, when your nose touched mine. Before you touched my lips with your lips. My heart was pumping in my artery saying I love you. I inhaled you, like a last cigarette. But you stayed in me. There's no excuse. I never let others exile me. I have seen imprison in and outside. This morning is gray my love. Whatever is written to you meaningless. I lived this life to say I love you. I will not stop loving you even I cross over to the other world and I am in God's promised land. You'll still be my last cigarette that I inhale you in once up on a time. And still, even, below my hat, behind my ear, my artery is pumping and saying I love you....
