I have always wanted a home from where I can see the waves.
Don’t need anything else,
just an empty room and big windows to see the continuation and upbringing of waters.
I remember once in my childhood I visited a place from where you can smell the serenity of an ocean.
My parents fought all day and in between they kissed me in turns…
I was lonely then…I am lonely now.
I saw them holding hands by the shore in that defeated evening,
but I was still alone, I was still a boy hiding under the wooden table.
People are good most of the times but they don’t know why they are good and how they are good
and though that’s enough for normal terms but not for me…
I want goodness with a statement.
It was the starting of a winter…
The chronic dystopian hangovers of raging ocean.
I slept between my parents. The banal bridge between two unhabitable islands.
Sometimes I think about that day. Sometimes I believe in the treaty between humans.
I wish this bottle of morbid whiskey could take me to that moment…
I wish I could still hear my parents babbling about blue stuffs…
I wish I could still hear and smell the tides as a monochromatic worm on the sands.
I wish I could still sleep with a romanticism of sprouted nomad.

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Photograph: Google Images.