unpredictable contradiction

look, the night already dressed the city

in the colour of

blues,

with the scent of a motown

strangely laid to rest in the rain gardens

and it quietly approached the moments of solitude

like a reflection of my outlook on life, and you are

still there?

I feel you holding my hand

and the heat is irresistible, but I don't know how

to adjust to that summer that lives

inside you.

in me, tonight, the rainy autumn is in charge

and it's hiding me from conscious people.

after all, this is the city in which is easy

to artfully conceal;

the streets are neatly arranged, decorated with colourful lights

with seemingly inappropriate glow

but still, there are days when I feel

like a stranger in this town...

sometimes I call it my own contradiction, in many ways

uncertain cradle of dreams;

and you admire me

startled by my grim uncertainty

and you're offering your beauty that I don't deserve. really,

why are you here? I admit,

I feel connected to you

in every sense of your being because

I was separated into small pieces and now,

with your kindness, albeit briefly

I'm assembled again and

shot down by your essence, cleansed with your acceptability,

in your mind's eye captured- and it scares me

because I'm not sure if you know

how dangerous it is

to be in love with a dreamer --

they're not here to be awake,

they're not here for awake people...

they're afraid of the morning birds, their first whistle

and they're hiding their faces- and you?

you think you found mine?

my world is enclosed by the walls of past.

some call it melancholy,

I again - a parody,

unconscious strategy against the onslaught of snowy

emotional storms -

and you are still here?

dear madam, please don't …

you are the victim of a fraud.

you are the sacrifice for loners like me that, apparently,

do not care.

© Tom Del Braco