I knew before

Tonight they sat together on the white marble of their balcony.
The stars were lit, the candle too, mosquitos awoke attacked.

Mother says he never can be philosophical with her.
But Mother and him always sit down and talk about what-ifs.

And now she and he sit on their two huge pillows.
She on blue and he on red; she knows what they share.

They stare at the dead tonight, he brought binoculars
to peep a little at the life he, she will not live.

"Because we are watching them die, but they are already dead"
she says. Binoculars are put down. He is scared.

To know that he will not live years of light.
She says they will, part of spark they can, at least, be.

She moves her pillow to the corner. His tears fall silent and transparent.
Her tears are made of smoke into the eery black.

"You know what you and I share, more than a philosophy"


We share the silence my dear brother.

That

I cannot choose to share with noone else.

I had that dream, I knew. So I was prepared.



Are you?