XXLove letters

 

When my memory reached a dead alley,

 

                                           

Yesterday I was lost in the maze,

In the cute cobblestone alleys,

Attraction for both tourists and lovers,

Locals and escapists,

They wrinkle the Montmartre forehead,

I lost the purpose of life under the ugly sun,

It was found dead,

Though it had been so alive in the morning,

 

It drowned in the blue sky,

It was naked, bloated and very round,

It was waiting to be identified,

Its defects were blue gray splashes  scattered like birds in the sky,

It was up,

No tears to cry,

I wasn’t sad,

I felt a bit down,

 

I tried to forget every face,

Everything that had ever happened,

Memories fell on the pavement,

Memories smoked chimneys like pot,

I tried to think nothing,

But I recollected all,

Memories looked out the windows,

 Hollow eye sockets,

 

One man is enough to make you lose every hope,

One man is enough to make you re-live it again,

As if you never died,

As if you never cried on your comforter’s shoulder,

It always starts from scratch,

It starts with a clean slate,

Hopes are muses of soul,

Hopes are always alive,

 

A clumsy painter spilt rainy paint on the streets,

They soaked and swelled,

Overnight their colors faded,

I’m afraid of the moments,

When I don’t want to want something that I really want a lot,

Somebody grabbed my sleeve,

Was it real?

Was it a ghost?

 

Warty centuries seeped through cracks,

I saw an old Gypsy woman,

With almost colorless, lackluster blue eyes,

Like eyes of newborn kittens,

She looked like a Gypsy curse with a giant hunchback,

It made me feel sorry,

She reminded me of a turtle,

 

I darted a quick angry glance,

                              I couldn’t hide my annoyance,

In vain I tried to escape,

There was no crowd but us,

Life had the future in store,

The messenger had been sent,

The Gypsy was ready to make a sales pitch,

Selling mysteries at discount.