FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

sometimes (seems to be my favorite word)
how many times have i used that to you as a starting frame for
an explanation
as i try to appease you and take you away from that
existential stupor

sometimes is just a word, but it can be a drug to drag us away from narrow alleys
into the open fields of a possibility
that sometimes

we can be wrong and be mislead by what others believed as a solid doctrine
that marriages ought to last (sometimes people have to go their own ways to find space
for themselves and be happy)

that sometimes there are irreconcilable differences
(how many people take this as a dessert during last dinner?)

that we get old and refuse to accept that age is a conqueror of our bodies
that we can be alone that at the end all the children have to abandon us since they also search for their own separate lives

sometimes, it becomes too comforting
that there is an average, a common denominator to our loneliness
that we know how to bury the past
that we can be part of those who shall be buried at the other side

sometimes we cannot help but talk about the miseries of our neighbors
to lessen our own

sometimes, sometimes how can i not stop abusing this word?
sometimes

we can always keep a promise to be together
to remember two hands gripping each finger because there is no one else in the house
because we need each other
because we have no other choice

yes, sometimes we do not have to think much
there is no time anymore left
and we need, sometimes, nothing but just the moment of silence
together one afternoon by the sea
savoring the death of the
sun

sometimes, we must call it the other way around
the birth of
a new
moon.