Replying the words of an unbeliever,
who doesn't believe my love is worth it.
Who dares to write my name and pretend to know it.
And I laugh and cry,
indignant,
in awe!
And I write back and I try to describe all the things that have not been invented,
and maybe that way we will both walk down the street in the same direction,
to the square,
where poets die.
©ederemm
E