My restless memories
of the most beautiful time gone by
were like colonies of dragonflies,
iridescent and precious.

I clung to them,
for months
feeding of the unreality
they served me in the brightest daylights
and the end of the darkest hours

It was a never-ending carnival,
with my eyes shut off.
A rain that never stopped caressing my lips.
A kiss I couldn’t forget.
A dream close to reality.

It was too late
when I realized:

The most beautiful things should burn first
for the catharsis of a delusional mind.