My kisses are bitter.
They taste like a lie.
They want to be given,
they want to come back,
but it’s only illusion.
It is just pretended.
I’m trying to fake it,
I’m hoping to feel
what I did long ago.
The present is sour,
the future is dead.
It does not really matter
if kisses are true.
Alenka H., 2022