Zywa
Lost
While the show goes on
your thoughts stare at me
you don't know anymore
where you are, lost
in responses, but fortunately
you have to sit still
until the intermission makes you aware
of the opportunities, in camouflage
among others, who interfere
and let you wait for your turn
You practice funny phrases
but forget what you wanted
to say and improvise
to catch my eyes
seeking a clear field for yours
trying to come closer
it takes some doing
to smell from each other
why we are laughing
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