If i squint i see youwhen i don`t my eyes reflect your imageWhen inhaling i smell your aurasometimes i don`t breathe so I can storeyour scent inside me for longerMy lips keep on searching this warm , volatile texture of your lipsBut it`s always tear molecules thatthey abruptly are crashed into...My limbs...My cold cold limbs feel like numbedafter long time embracing emptinessMy mind...that is the

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en, vazhdo te na kenaqesh me fotot, nderkohe qe poezia ('My cold cold limbs feel like numbed/after long time embracing emptiness') me kujtoi kete, me te famshmen ndoshta nga robert desnos:

I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real.
Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make
your dear voice come alive again?

I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my
chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body.
For faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many
days and years, I would surely become a shadow.

O scales of feeling.

I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up.
I sleep on my feet prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who
counts for me today, I can no more touch your face and lips than touch the lips and
face of some passerby.

I have dreamed of you so much, have walked so much, talked so much, slept so much
with your phantom, that perhaps the only thing left for me is to become a phantom
among phantoms, a shadow a hundred times more shadow than the shadow the
moves and goes on moving, brightly, over the sundial of your life.

(good ol'times)

trop nuk di si te te falenderoj per kete poezi qe me solle ketu.

eshte e mrekullueshme!flm shume

sa qef qe poezia ime te kujtoi kete bukurismiley

Për të komentuar tek Peshku pa ujë, ju duhet të identifikoheni ose të regjistroheni (regjistrimi është falas).