The Skies Are Almost Asleep

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This is an ode,

to my dear, nocturnal being

whose nature attracts me in

to all of his restless nights

of opened eyes

of enchanting tunes, of exchanged words

of fate,

and to where it has brought us

 

An ode

to my dear, thinker being

whose nature attracts me in

to all of his wandering wonders

of limitless possibilities

of terrifying bits, of corresponding feelings.

 

Of lust,

of love.

 

This is an ode to you,

my dear, nocturnal being

whom I could only see at nights

when the skies are still quite awake to see us

but too sleepy to tell what they see to anyone else.

 

Hamburg, May 4, 2015

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