Sandielle

every night I dream
about the angel beings
with celestial sandy hair
and every morning
I wake up with a headache
madly obsessed
with that snow-white skin

do the walls feel how I feel? 
and do the antique statues
put lipstick on their mouths? 

that's correct

then, after the first chapter
I throw out to the moonless night
every god-forgotten book
forgotten like those
mean marine mammals
and think about Sandielle

too bad that I can't 
sleep at night anymore
and from the distance I yell
goodbye to Sandielle
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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