- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Lost Love
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Oh how naive was our love, how simple it was!
Kids’ dream and passion of the moment
that we believed be for eternity.
In sunset sitting on the porch
watching boats on st. Lawrence,
dreaming about us with my hand around your waste
enjoying wind touching our faces
while we sail toward port of old city.
I feel your hair on my face,
I'm watching your beautiful peaches bouncing
while you are riding me slowly
pushing on my chest with your hands.
Oh, is it dream or memory or us?
The poet said that we are in constant Now,
past is just memory, future is our hope.
Oh sweet heart, please, release me from our memory,
as the bourbon just hold me by stitches.
In the water i see reflection of the tired face,
old man who faced so many northern winds,
hoping to be released from the past while
you are waking up by your “new” love.
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