I wrote so many words
forming sentences
sometimes with a meaning
but also meaningless...
I tried writing metaphors
on the lines of a pentagram
that had been used too much
every note is an echo spinning through my brain.
I read them
even this evening
thinking about yesterday
it's always the same grey-haired photo
appearing in my dreams.
Maybe the most beautiful
are those dedicated to her
with scalding grains of sand
damp with sultriness.
I told about a forbidden dream
amid the confusion
of a nude without understanding the love
that was waiting for my hand.
I wrote about you
grazing me from a distance
until I perceived
the fire of a love.
I wrote it for you
on a misted glass
waiting for a kiss
of the sun to dry it up
and to donate it to the wind.
©tumie01
T