[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]Do you remember? Once I asked you to let me cry in your arms.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]I just wanted to cuddle my little body close to your heart, and to sob like a faded autumn leaf: without any special reason, or maybe because my cross was too heavy. You drove me away and I promised you that you would never see me crying again. The Poet used to say that everything existing on Earth needs to cry, from time to time. That's why all I could promise you, was not that I would forget about crying, but that you would never know the colour of my tears again. I have kept my promise! Maybe you have forgotten that day[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]?[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York] I will never forget it! It has been engraved in me; starting to build bas-reliefs of sadness. I used to leave home, when you were not there, and go to a rock which was as lonely as I, to be alone with the sea, and the dead shells. I used to come back late, lowering my eyelids before your hostile, suspicious lo[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]oks[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York], but you never asked me where I had been.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]I will never know if the reason why you did not ask, was only pride, or if simply it wasn't hurting you. I was painfully wishing you to ask: to offer you silence as an answer. The same silence that I was desperately hoping would, one-day, make you wish to see where the barefoot traces, left in the sand, were leading to. I was imagining that if you ever reached that rock, as old as The Earth, that instead of the miserable secret that you would expect to discover, you would find only the bitter purity of the driven-away cry. The Angel of Tears would[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York] then [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]be able to open, in a single moment, the heavy padlock [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]with which [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]you had closed your heart. Then, neither of us would have ever come back to The World, which would have thought us forever lost; stolen by the sea, or by a storm. Our story would have begun again, from then on, written on the sand with fish bones.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]I have always been waiting for you! Lying down on the rock, watching the sea, hair mixed with dead shells, thinking that I could hear, in each noise of the grass or in the twilight wind, your beloved steps coming closer. I was closing my eyes and wishing it so badly that I almost felt your tender palms covering my closed eyelids. I only wanted your hand on my forehead, and to fall asleep, maybe for good, to the lapping sound of the waves, beneath the mercy of your hand.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]You never came, and oblivion slapped my cheeks with dead shells, again and again, until they bled![/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]I just wanted to cuddle my little body close to your heart, and to sob like a faded autumn leaf: without any special reason, or maybe because my cross was too heavy. You drove me away and I promised you that you would never see me crying again. The Poet used to say that everything existing on Earth needs to cry, from time to time. That's why all I could promise you, was not that I would forget about crying, but that you would never know the colour of my tears again. I have kept my promise! Maybe you have forgotten that day[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]?[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York] I will never forget it! It has been engraved in me; starting to build bas-reliefs of sadness. I used to leave home, when you were not there, and go to a rock which was as lonely as I, to be alone with the sea, and the dead shells. I used to come back late, lowering my eyelids before your hostile, suspicious lo[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]oks[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York], but you never asked me where I had been.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]I will never know if the reason why you did not ask, was only pride, or if simply it wasn't hurting you. I was painfully wishing you to ask: to offer you silence as an answer. The same silence that I was desperately hoping would, one-day, make you wish to see where the barefoot traces, left in the sand, were leading to. I was imagining that if you ever reached that rock, as old as The Earth, that instead of the miserable secret that you would expect to discover, you would find only the bitter purity of the driven-away cry. The Angel of Tears would[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York] then [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]be able to open, in a single moment, the heavy padlock [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]with which [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]you had closed your heart. Then, neither of us would have ever come back to The World, which would have thought us forever lost; stolen by the sea, or by a storm. Our story would have begun again, from then on, written on the sand with fish bones.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]I have always been waiting for you! Lying down on the rock, watching the sea, hair mixed with dead shells, thinking that I could hear, in each noise of the grass or in the twilight wind, your beloved steps coming closer. I was closing my eyes and wishing it so badly that I almost felt your tender palms covering my closed eyelids. I only wanted your hand on my forehead, and to fall asleep, maybe for good, to the lapping sound of the waves, beneath the mercy of your hand.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]You never came, and oblivion slapped my cheeks with dead shells, again and again, until they bled![/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman,Times,New York]The End[/FONT]
