Cleo Sand

I hate it when you say you’ll call right back and you call hours later I hate your text messaging inquiring style Denoting politically correct interest and no feeling at all I hate it that

beyond our words lies solitude pale bride of moonlit nights sunk in the bitter promise of earth\'s cold embrace

Do not promise me angels when all I ask for, is you Do not sow me wings when all I want is one night\'s flight You know nothing of who I am You wish nothing from what I offer So don\'t you

At sunrise, when the seagulls quietly watch the show of the rising sun Listen, at sunset when they scream for all that is lost once with the light Listen, the lack of her breath close

I cannot imagine you other than next to me hands touching in tiny gestures eye reflected in eye, iris lost in iris brown meeting deeper brown lip meeting complementary lip us, taken as one

Perfect is what was meant to be except that you were not to make it whole The sun was split in two one red for your absence in body one yellow for your presence in soul The sea was

I guess that love is something only for humans. They created it only for themselves because they are the only ones are capable of putting pain and happiness in the same phrase or thought. For us,

I’ve felt the fall with more than my arms (wannabe wings) I’ve embraced the silence with more than a scream I’ve run with crippled thoughts Forgot Relived Redrew Renamed Same old lines for

Living on caffeine. And dreams sunk in fears and sweat. The night has three, four hours. The bed is too big, too warm or too cold. The blanket stops you from breathing. Clothes stop you from feeling

Dust And this second hand setting And these sad masks with Grimaces, wannabe smiles And these poor clowns Trained to love each other And the elephant on the scene, the polka dotted

I\'m coming, can you wait? coming to sleep with you to lie next to your back feeling your heart beating, being your heart chasing away someone else\' seconds I\'m coming for

Give me a silver anchor to tie me to this shore full of uncertainties like green algae smothering feelings and growing fears... Sink your hand in the cemeteries of billions and

I do not know what is best not to know in this age of knowledge I do not remember what is best to remember, in this age of digital photography I cannot say what is best not to say now when I

Can you remember the taste of the night? Of moist lips and bitter coffee Of naked skin, warm and alive.. Nights felt on your skin Impervious shelter for your hopes and fears unspoken never

And there we stood, in silence Holding our future, tight in our arms strange and alone one next to the other * There, at the border Of that second to let, bathing in violet light caught

Victor’s story is part of my story, and so are the stories of all the people I ever met and walked side by side in my short life. In order to know me you have to know them and since this is the

The winter is near. I can smell it early in the morning when my cheeks freeze as soon as I open the door and my breath would freeze too if I had any but since I’m only a wooden puppet I was carved

I carried her home in my arms...through the blistering cold...well hidden under my coat, drunk at the smell of her hair. Drunk of happiness and wishing for the road never to end so I could bear her

I haven\'t had the time to write about Her, about the wonderful toy I discovered…and our sad, sad story Maybe because I was too fascinated by her... But let me start with the beginning: First it

Carved out of a very special type of wood… Out of a living tree... This is who I am, and I cannot stop from thinking sometimes that someone or something had to die for me to come to life... About

Dan had a little box. To be correct I may say that there was once a box that had Dan because he was the one trapped in it only that he didn\'t know it...shhhhhhh Dan thought that the box is

Gepetto died last night... I do not know the exact moment that his heart stopped beating but I woke up around midnight and I didn\'t hear his whistling snoring, the silent murmur of his old heart