Max Fomitchev-Zamilov, Poetry

Максим Фомичёв-Замилов, поэзия

You are like a cloud in my memory.
Getting fainter by the day.
You are like a rainbow
That appears and disappears on its own.
You are like a fleeting feeling
That comes and goes.

I want to burn your name onto my skin,
So I could never forget you.
Even when my memory betrays me completely
And I sit staring into an open window,
Gazing emptily into the night,
Listening to the birds that used to sing for the both of us.

Now I am alone in this boundless fog.
In the cold.
Full of fear.
Full of uncertainty.
But still careless.

I do not remember who I am.
But I will feel the scar on my hand
And remember that you exist.

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