Aperifriatika

There's a shadow at the
Station, in your emotionless sowing.
A coin, a giving, a memory of walking didn't stay
No costume, no applause on your balcony,
I only saw your gaze... incomplete and fleeting. And
I've searched in review, some lips
Without singing... If I could have made myself speak... my
Story, perhaps, could have begun. I never saw your light,
Your god, only saw the blue of the sun at night
And your garden talking about illusion
I know I was never in your speech or in your thoughts
I know the distance between us and the flatness of
My story closed and this
Ended without starting...
Happy Hour...