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 Listen to this heart touching
 The tiles of a roof :  sh, sh.
 I am in a stranger's cage
 Painting the bars silver,
 As if they were  my own nails.
 Don't disturb  me.  I am scratching songs
 For you, my godchild, to remember.
 Perhaps today,  perhaps later,
 My fresh lips will  breathe on to your pages
 
 Look at that question mark on the paper.
 It is an eyelash of mine left there to dream.

 2
 
 
 Today I want everyone to look into my eyes
 And sing as if they loved me ,
 I don't care if it's true.
 Let all those  who were once touched
 by the paper  lips of my poems,
 who left their own signature
 on my body , and would not let me
 sleep at night for the twenty eight hours
or centuries---of my life
 
 They must begin to sing.
 My ears are open.
 I 'm listening.
 
 But what comes back to me?
 Silence.

 3
 
 Why don't you smile  ?   The sun
 has put  on lipstick.
 The house is warm and
 you still have your own teeth.
 There is somewhere to rest your head,
  a place to eat and drink.
 A wild and playful soul
 should  be laughing  out loud
 until Heaven hears and smiles.
 
 So smile, damn it !
                Why don't you smile !

  
 ON MY OWN

 I'm fine, I'm absolutely fine…..
                   Do I believe that ?
 Maybe I do,
                   but perhaps I deceive myself,
 since what is not remembered
                   usually disappears.

                 At least there is no anger.
 Maybe  someone could film a smile
                 and put it under my nose
 like a  magic fish
                     or a piece of candy for a
 child.

 I'm absolutely fine.   I want to spoil myself 
   tomorrow, and then day after day
                  until  joy becomes a habit.
 You see,   I’m feeling fine .
             ……That’s what makes me a poet!