That Boy in the Rain

Those three storeys,
shadowless today,
project the layers in the
story of that boy in the rain...

A man walks into the
square reserved for morning prayers,
midday chaos and evening jest;
to splash water on his soul,
to forget love,
to tear open his shirt, feel love...

From the heavens;
from the girl of yore; from you;
from the blonde across the table;
over candle-lit dinners;
or at a beach empty.
But, man he can't love!

He can only kneel,
in pain now,
his will slashed in war.
He watches, in dread,
as the boy fades into the mist
rising from a basketball court.

With that, poof, his memories mix,
into a dull grey Molotov cocktail,
then flow into the polluted gut
of a city of rushed dreams.

While two boys live, swinging, 
their moment drenched in lust,
a thirst for life, yes lust;
their clocks tick-toeing towards truth,
towards the end of innocence,
where they’ll begin to die!

Instagram: Pixeles_