A Long Time Ago
By Leyli Salayeva
Those memories of every omelet cooked by you,
And us dreaming on motley cushions
In the middle of the forest, away from those
Who called us weirdoes, will never fade.
Soakings under splashes of fountain and strolling
Through the park to our favorite booth,
Where the lady of middle age with red lipstick
Will pack freshly baked cinnamon rolls for us.
The piles of books stacked on the square table up
Each of them reserve the meaning we were searching for
Unwelcoming rumpled bed that is cooled down
And the silence of the room cherishing our secrets.
Hiding in a moment the sense of our lives
A vulnerability that keeps our love in fragile hearts
One long sentence suspended in the air as a backlog
And that turquoise door left ajar, for you to come back.