I think of you, my bones soft,
my heart sings a song for you
of white and pink blossom
wet and heavy of rain
falling with the southern wind.
Rain slides down my face
finding a place to rest
in the middle of my palm.
Liquid crystals hold
the silence and whispers,
the secret of apple’s birth.
Darkness consumes the sky
competing with Genesis.
From afar, an unknown ballad,
the sound of guitar, strings crying.
Somebody tries to smith the words
and sing with complete lack of technique.
I find myself lost
within strange thoughts.
Clouds, dark flags in the sky
wave me good night
and I hear somebody call my name.
I do not turn back,
but cling to a few fragile unspoken words
hanging them to the edge of my lips as silken petals.
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