Who?

who's swallowing the bitterness of coffee
with the cream of your words now?
who's inhaling your smoke
in the dark delirium of the left-side gossip place?
who listens to your thoughts now
and echoes to your dreams?
who hums the melody of your mood
and reads your letters to the world?
whose laughter inhabits your blue-shadowed fortress?
whose flame melts your candles?
who wears your colours and bathes in your sun-rays?
whose eyes host your tears?
who’s playing your nocturnes
when your stars whisper verses?
who’s gonna swim
in your white-coloured hell now?

now that my sunsets are painfully crowded,
that my books shout insults
and photos make faces,
that my brain is a liar
and tongue is a coward...
who will now see my image
in pineapples and bubbles?
who will play me my music?
who will now be my mirror?