The diplomat

Hourmouziadis Stelios
2016

It's been two years, now,
you are gone, lost in luscious
green and blue and gray.

We were left behind,
waiting for a sign of remembrance
then rather tired of waiting...

You came back on a summer night
fresh for the season,
such a pitch-black roasted return!
We yearned to savour you
and yet you seemed so flavourless,
as if the years had sucked out
the marrow of that gentle smile.

Your return, your longed-for return...
You linger there, we stray away,
our lives forever exorbitant,
our orbits invariably centrifugal;
what once was love
has turned into an alien trace.

You are present
only when I am absent.
I was never...

 

                                                 [1.4.2016]

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