discrete inspiration

you used to sneak close

and would silently knock

at the door of my comprehension

we used to communicate easily

through the poem recited in the mind

one day though

you did not come anymore

in the corner where you used to stay

there was a note

i’ve never thought you could write

as instead of fingers

you used to have a conductor’s baton

you wrote

we had never met before

i was interested in

researching interiors

in solving emotional equations

and in the discovery of the unknown

in a woman

in getting close to her

and look into her eyes

to penetrate with my thought

her inner soul

that is how i met you

and since then

i do not solve

equations with one unknown anymore