loss of youth
he’s down there, by the sea.
remembering days of kisses on the hill, outlooking
their sun-and-cloud-kissed kites and the sullen silent
romances between the sky and the sea.
he’s stranded in sorrows.
barefoot on forgotten pebbles, waiting for the current to
take away whatever is left of him.
he’s stranded in a place that is at a loss of words within
and he thinks that after all that time lying on that
windy-white-capped hill, made him stiff.
he has given his humiliated, guilty congratulations
to those who were close to the ones near their end.
remembering that the sun never sets in the memories
that are never to be felt or lived again other than in the
worst disease to be spread among men; nostalgia.
he reminds those to open the cracked-stained windows.
to let the young love-sick souls finally escape the
prison of this world.
while also teaching himself and taming his addiction to
life by reminiscing of how
we’re all surrounded by ghosts,
we’ve just got to learn to live with them.