And there are no rules
Just the whisper in a misty night
That stays with you
Through
Sunshine
Old houses
Put on time’s maquillage
Like a Gaudi touch
To sparkle
With the moon
And bathe
In the dark
Old faces
Have no rules left
No maquillage to hide
The scars that forget their own wounds
Never too deep
Rarely too dry
Once closed
And open again
But old houses
And old faces still whisper
The old two words
On misty nights
As slowly
As before
June 7, 2026
©Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2026
