A False Story
I effaced everything
From the paper, and washed it
In the water of a pond then in a river
And in the sea, there after.
My palms were red, the water was red.
“Was it written in blood?” I asked
“Blood does not have permanent color.”
But the paper was made up of flesh,
Do you remember? Did you want a photo copy?
‘ ‘Flesh can not be photo copied.” he replied
“And nothing written there was true, after all.”
Nothing was true? Do you feel so?
The rain lied to the peacock that day?
And the flowers to the gardener?
Did the songs lie to the CD player?
And your fingers to my hair?
The birds going back to their nests
Stopped by our call,
A mannequin smiled at us
While we were shopping together.
Do you remember?
The brightest word
Peeped into the window
After the sunset, that day,
And we started to walk,
We almost reached the peak of the mountain of silence,
And our future revealed itself on the paper
Was it on flesh? Written in red?
“Nothing true was written in that paper”
He said again and again.
A false story has ended truthfully, That is all.” ( Original English)