The barking dogs in mars.

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Some things are not meant to be yours.

No matter how much you want them.

How fast you run after them.

No matter how hard you try.

No matter how good they smell. No matter they play guitar.

There is no reason, some things just don’t work out.

All the right ingredients together but no result.

A failed magic trick.

 

The verdict is established.

The word “NO” now hanging in the middle of you two like a fence.

 

Still, these things you want, they won’t shut up, they call you.

Still they make noise. They knock doors.

 

Some things are not meant to be yours and still you love them.

Like barking dogs in mars that won’t let you sleep but you can’t touch.

Like a pack of barking dogs that won’t let you think.

Like barking dogs in mars that call, call, call you.

 

Some things are not meant to be yours, not at 27, not at 3am, not at this continent, not ever.

You are sure of it.

Still you love them.

 

Like barking dogs.

Like noise, like nightmares.

Like a pack of barking dogs that know your name and your adress.

Like a a song you can’t remember, like ten thousand songs.

Like all the songs in the world but no voice.

Like love.

 

Love won’t let you sleep.

The barking love of mars.

At the end of everything.

Your barking heart in mine.

 

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