Small People

by Peycho Kanev

my cigarettes are running out
but the bottles of wine will last
till the morning

(our medicine into the loneliness)

I smoke and drink and remain silent
and after that I listen how you cry

this small room
made by sighs of the others before us

look me in the yes
look me in the eyes and
don’t cry

your silence is enough
for me

soon the morning will come
and then we will have to be again
the things that we are not

don’t bother

you still have a little more time
here with me

to be the thing
that you are.

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Filed under Issue 2, Poetry

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