The invisible man lies there on the bed,  all of his muscles are tiring from the hard trainings during the day. His mind is half empty,  or half full,  the visible woman has never asked. She gently runs her fingers on his back, lets her body lie on him to feel his soft and warm skin. They kiss, on the lips. The kiss stays on the lips with a secret glance from his eyes.
She’s surprised.
They are intertwined.
He kisses, on her lips,  and on her lips.
She kisses, on his head, and on his head.
They love it,  knowing each other long enough to know how to touch the other in the dark, inside out.
The destination is clear,  the way is vague, the time is over, the scar is born.
They both come,  to see the blooming sakura inside the plastic tower.
That’s visible.
The woman is visible, with her tears streaming down seeing the naked beauty of that sakura tree.
The man is still,  invisible,  he holds her and disappears, he’s there,  but Noone around her can see.
He’s a ghost, he’s invisible, he’s so close but yet so far.
His existence was then visible but now invisible.
The pain she has was then invisible but now visible.
He’s now visible and tomorrow being invisible again.
She knows,  she accepts, she’s obsessed, she’s haunted,  by a ghost.
He’s a ghost.
They love. An invisible love that could never be visible.
Life goes on,  he will just fly away with the blue sky tomorrow. It’s irresistible.


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