sad things

This morning when waking up, finally for a long time,
I realized storm cloud of my heart...
Last it gives me to write sad things.

Finish
so fed up with to look for you in the mirrors
that now profile passage
when I see my reflection in them.

It does not stop
until to fill to me of desire in vain
to see your image reflected in me.
Until to speak you, to speak, of the time.

Now only I see your shade to hold me the feet.

And while shout that sere of you,
everything what I meant to you
swallows unsatisfied this silence.
(this poem is also for Jonn)
mhr...