Poetry

This was an interesting dialogue 
going on, 
between me and a ghost. It was 
telling me that I love you 
because you are not a virgin. 
 
Was it a good thing, someone 
asks? The game was fair 
but the players were dishonest. 
 
The bared chest, with scars 
and raw wounds, tells everything 
about blue wars. 
 
The words float on water, 
like dragonflies. Do you think 
it was impossible to convey 
the agony by phraseology of metaphors?