WHERE DOES LOVE GO WHEN IT'S ALL OVER
I often see it on the leaf on which
the raindrops stick a little longer
and in the waves of the ocean that’s
left with no land, to conquer.
I feel its essence on that old bench in the park,
Which doesn't creak anymore
and in the monuments that set course of the history,
but are now lost in the core.
I notice it on the hand of the broken compass
trying desperately to find north
And in the songs drenched in my memories
which have slowly lost their worth.
I sense its presence, in those silent heartaches
which haunt me when I visit the lake,
And in all those squandered chances,
Which we were too fearful to take.
I find it in those abandoned wine glasses,
still waiting for their perfect story
and in those borrowed metaphors
that have lost all their glory.
I spot it on my favourite shirt
that still carries the stain
I notice how it sits on the bedside table
of a tired, sleepless man.
I smell it in those empty perfume bottles
that you couldn't throw
and in those flowers, lost somewhere between
the book I cannot find anymore
I observe it in those eyes with infinite vision,
caged beneath thick glasses
and on those stamp-less postcards,
with washed away addresses.
I witness it in the coffee left cold
on a forgotten windowsill
and in the texts that I do not have
the courage to re-read, still.
I know it doesn’t leave because
It isn’t a phase that will go,
it's something that my heart
cannot learn to outgrow.
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