Love is a journey through waters and stars, through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning, two bodies ruined by a single sweetness” Pablo Neruda
Between wake and sleep
I feel the brush of your hand
cold as winters breath,
glimpse you in lightning strokes.
Listen to foot steps come and go
along corridors of departure.
Mists of yesterdays recede over
rivers of time.
So that you may see what is left
I’ve etched your eyes to mine.
Dismembered by scythes, conscious
fingers of stars glide over hoarfrost fields
or weeping willows sweep ice capped ponds
where my heart became a dying bird.