And if we by chance do, why must we resemble a being on speed or any other substance that allows one to hurry, to remember; analyze....?
I dreamt of flowers
they smelt of chocolate and sweat milk
so enjoyable to be around, you could almost taste them....
And so I took from that bright petal
to taste what I was so certain my tongue would love;
so sure my nose would not betray me....
What looked soft, hurt my teeth....
salty like tears.
What smelt sweet made my lips quiver;
and then I saw it for what it was,
not sweet, soft nor beautiful!
It was you who appeared
I saw you then for the first time,
as you are...
Colorless, bitter and old....
Love can be as blind as dreams sometimes....