once, the world stopped for a second

thirteen years is a long time,
from now, was a short time,
after waiting for you,
on the other side of heaven,
a little better than Eden,
with brownstones and streets
people talk without talking about love,
because love is the movement,
when you die, will you visit
my grave, put some flowers,
and write a poem about me,
writing a poem about you,
then i'll remember everything
you told me about the world,
that day i said i'd wait for us,
and the world stopped, for a while,
to think if there is the same
possibility for everyone,
it never stopped again