not understood
just like your breasts
feel in my hands
like your kiss
misunderstands my lips
and so, it’s only felt.
Like this love
So strong
sometimes I could swear I could even touch it
and like I still can’t understand why you left
and even though I can feel poetry
I never understood you
Your soft and strong thighs are my poetry
with the minuscule cotton curtain
white, immaculate
as if recently pulled from your drawer
As poetic as a woman
that needs no explanation
that I feel and don’t understand
like that phone that will talk to me no more
now, all that is left is my silly poetry
that I try to understand
day by day.
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