Tale from the Quiet Place

It was raining 

Early morning 

You took my hand

And led me to a quiet place,

That perhaps artists would be eager to paint

Your eyes were searching 

As if looking for a specific scent

I saw the longing in your gaze

But you weren't looking my way

Yet, my eyes were glued on you like always

You look so passionately in love 

Then I saw you smile

Blooming lips like the flowers around

But you weren't looking my way

Why would you bring me to a euphoric place

If you would not dare look my way?

The answer unfolds when I stopped looking at you

And looked upon where your eyes land their gaze

My eyes got blurry, it was raining, early morning,

You are not fond of the rain,

Not even a morning person you explicitly claim

But here you are looking so passionately in love 

Eyes glued to the woman he loves

Brought me to a place where he can see her smile 

Where I am less than an inch away

Yet he never dared look my way

How cruel you are or her who also brought a guy that loves her

4 Words

Somebody asked me about ethereal 

Is it a what? A who? A when? 

And what you know, may I ask

the reply I gave out?

I thought.

Paused.

It always gives the same answer.

The one that haunts me

The one that I long to reunite with

The one who never stops calling my name

The question was repeated,

perhaps with a frown, wondering why the long pause

I drank my coffee and opened my book,

"Too precious to share," my voice almost cracked

And I think the whole world finally understands

why even in nothingness I suddenly smile.