Before your eyes

And you 're away

further than the kiss
further than the world
further than the words

My bed is narrow
it doesn't hold the clouds
the seashore
the sun
the photos in black and white
the love's burden

Harsh beards grow quickly
brows grow
desires are multiply

But you always live
in a swaying
in an anti-narrative gap
in a strange desertion
from the acceptable versions
of reality

I remember that before your eyes
a word sought to take place
at the window of a poem

                           Yannis Politopoulos

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