By Mendes Biondo

I’m not sure that stuff could be considered a poem

you said

on the display a few words

about a thing happened while

you were on a tram

 

poetry is everywhere

I told you

just let things go

just don’t change life into a good story

let flow what happened

and poetry will come

as a consequence

 

maybe you’re right

you said

and together we chopped those words

you wrote some days ago

 

it was the story of a man and a woman

he with his problems

she with her problems

and the poem was in the middle

like a ghost

watching their pain flowing from their eyes

 

you were there with that ghost

with that pain

and you lost a stop

just to collect that moment

a good moment

like a polaroid picture

only words and no images on the page

 

now I’m tired

you said

I need to sleep

I waited all the day for the night

just to go to bed and let another day begin

 

I smiled while you said that

 

good night my sweet poet

I said

good night my love

you said

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