Unpredictable contradiction

Look, the night already dressed the city
in the colour of Blues,
with the scent of  Motown,
strangely laid to rest in the rain
and it quietly approached the moments of solitude
like a reflection of my outlook on life, and you are
still there?
I feel you holding my hand
and the heat is irresistible, but I don’t know how
to adjust to that Summer that lives
inside you.
in me tonight, the rainy Autumn is in charge
and it’s hiding me from conscious people.
after all, this is the city in which it’s easy
to artfully conceal;
the streets are neatly arranged, decorated with colourful lights
with a seemingly inappropriate glow
but still, there are days when I feel
like a stranger in this town…
sometimes I call it my own contradiction, in many ways
uncertain cradle of dreams
and you admire me
startled by my grim uncertainty
and you’re offering your beauty that I don’t deserve. really,
why are you here? I admit,
I feel connected to you
in every sense of your being because
I was separated into small pieces and now,
with your kindness, albeit briefly
I’m assembled again and
shot down by your essence, cleansed
with your acceptance,
in your mind’s eye captured —  and it scares me
because I’m not sure if you know
how dangerous it is
to be in love with a dreamer—
they’re not here to be awake,
they’re not here for awake people…
they’re afraid of the morning birds, their first whistle
and they’re hiding their faces— and you?
you think you found mine?
my world is enclosed by the walls of my past.
some call it melancholy,
I again, a parody,
unconscious strategy against the onslaught of snowy,
emotional storms
and you are still here?
dear madam, please don’t—
you are the victim of a fraud.
you are the sacrifice for loners like me that, apparently,
do not care.

©Tom Del Braco

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