some days we all dance with
tears in our eyes

dipped in a salty sauce
filled with all kinds of warm

as the moon leaves the skies
takes a paper boat

to float on the rivers instead
in middle of a thunderstorm

when the kohl is fine and sharp
but the dark circles wear oceans all day

making meringue memories
a museum of heartbreaks

with words – not to be touched
but wall hung as an art form

those days,
as i stare at the floating moon

music in my head stops
sharp kohl smears
salty sauces bitter
paperboats drown and
the verses condemn

i don’t know how to put it
differently this time but

all I ever wanted to say is
my poems are mere ink
your eyes put life into them

Muzeu ~ museum in Romanian