Poetry

Give me your lips
I have to drink the dark night.
 
It is the final assault
for tomorrow. The idea
becomes a journey.
I have to walk on water.
 
True dialogue starts
when stars are not with you.
I am standing on rooftop
scanning the sky.
 
Let me repeat the ascent,
the hill is younger than me.
It will settle the dispute,
man was taller than god.
 
You become a stranger
in your own drawn circle.
Life had the absurd walls
a wounded center.