Archive for August 7, 2014

Kissing a frog? Are you real?

While silly memories of you and me
are leaping through the early morning,
the misty day is already forgetting
the way her own night was like.

Images of a frog disappear quickly
before I can distinguish its green shape
and I can not grasp it with my hands,
nor with my mind, if I should choose to do so.

But I don’t really want to catch one
and feel the slimy weakness of its skin.
Let memories sink into the horizon today
and let frogs stay far away from my face.

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