TIME ZERO

"I want you to know," you said,

with an annoyed air of arrogance,

"that dreams never existed,"

and you left, proudly crossing the Temple,

filled with merchants of goods,

negotiating souls and ideas.

Whores and sellers of values,

pimps and corrupt benefactors,

with spread-out wares on the stalls.

And I turned my back to the sun,

watching you move away

strong and alone

paid and invincible,

holding in your hands the trophy,

a drop of my own pride.

Then I opened my fist,

with my hidden treasure

and caressed the gleam in your eyes

that I secretly stole, laughing.

GIORGOS STAVRAKIS