At the café of Acropolis museum

I don’t really know
If my attention
On your face
Causes you tension
Like a white lace
That you cannot endure
While doing eyes jogging
TV-watching
For sure

Love opens
Every time
As a noon café
It bites us under the sun
Without any clue
Just out of the blue

I don’t really know
If this blue briefcase
Left on the wooden table
Contains anything from
The blue sky
That someday we were able
To stare together

We might have lost something
Whilst you’ve been away
Whilst you steal time
For your goldmine
Like a poultry thief

I don’t really know
What to do with this
Forgotten briefcase
At the café
Of Acropolis museum