dad

i dunno who i exactly bumped into early this morning, i mean, they were many. On second thought, they’re always many…people…youths…dreamers…smiling souls…smoking bodies…skeptic buddies…admirable fighters…lonesome love searchers… and there’s always one standing out…for some freakin’ reason…for some bright colors he wears like kings or greek gods will never do…for some perfect motions of his particular arms and legs…for some strategic expressions he timidly draws on his face as he walks across that hall…i don’t mind about others… all i see is me and the deepest softest calmest being nature can bring to the word. and he’s getting closer…and closer… say no word, Apollon, so i don’t have to see the fissures every masterpiece has, say no word, Apollon, so i think you’re tangible perfection amid imperfection, say no word, Apollon, so i can sense the smell of sensations your sacred body roughly emanates, say no word, Apollon, so your appearance remains a mystic vision in the memories of a poor old kid. You know? the other day i found one of your brethren. he was strong as heaven and soft like wolves. suddenly he approached me, in the middle of a crowded somewhere. at me he looked and frozen i remained. was it really coldness or had he actually shone so brightly that his warmth burned my whole self, even my darkest demons? his scruffy stubble reminded me of the trees that grow crazily in my most voluptuous dreams. then, he left. far away. and just as i usually do, i followed his path with an inquisitive look, staring at his perfect back & damned perfect spheres, hoping he looked back,,,of course it never happens.

Then i bumped into someone. the street was empty, and so was i, there were just cars, trucks, dirty old streets, horns, people, traffic lights, street vendors, and him. funny, huh? such a guy, a seemingly decent guy buying the cheapest pizza on the street. he looked like one of those hot new yorkers who’re always partying. & i was curious, because i knew he was the guy who’d made me get a boner on that bus some weeks, perhaps months, prior. it was him! i forget people’s names, relatives’ addresses, duties at work, but never an angel’s face. how to forget him? how to forget his chubby figure? how to forget the hairs that grew savagely from his chest & chin? how to forget his damned calmed look exploring the universe? there he came…crossed the street & i followed. What was i doing? he doesn’t walk, he dances. are you married? are you a father? are you a man?                can i be friends with you?                              can i hug you all night long?                                                                     can i feel your warmth and smell?                                                   you shouldn’t go. it hurts.

it’s getting dark, & it’s gonna rain reddish tears.

Themonochromeman

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