Βαλεντίνη Καλφαδοπούλου, 3 a.m.

3 am

Twirling smoke
Caressing lips
Like a promise of tomorrow
And the taste of yesterday

Moving to doors of wisdom
And windows of things yet to come
So many things I never told you
So little things left to map

Twirling fingers
On lips
Like tracing the sorrow
Of a promise never uttered

A soul never forgotten,
Is a soul never explored.


VK - Feb '08

Published also on Translatum - Favorite Poetry - Βαλεντίνη Καλφαδοπούλου