The cliché about my time is that
I am a lonely woman
and this loneliness is harmonizing with me
just like a scorching drop of sweat flowing
and just like that
until it reaches my veiled anklet
only to realize the lie about the truth
and only to enter again under the skin.
Don’t go too much ahead,
it’s only a trick
as simple as that but my dream is small.
I am no waiting and I am no lonely
I can only breathe as long as
things are not near by
and by things, I mean people.
Posted for The Mag