Wrapped with the light
and folded like sleepy petals
I compound your touches
one by one
with kisses.
I collect the dew to wash my face
and the face of morning
starts to bloom
when you gather pieces of the moon
from my eyes
and scatter them
on the book of your palm.
You teach me to read
unwritten sonnets,
to listen to uncomposed melodies,
to see an undrawn masterpiece on an empty canvas
and to fly free without wings.
You give me something to believe in,
and I reach for the Sun
with you.
Silver trophy winner
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