Into the whispering dreams
Of your faithful eyes
I walked for days of mist
Looking for the hope
That speaks to eternal images.
Sweet smell ran neck to neck
Inside the starry depth
Of your overwhelming mouth
And I bathed with your light
Kissing our smiles over darkness.
There I am a hidden path
Under quiet wind
Awaiting for snowflakes
Which drop from the wooden basket
Of your bicycle-myth.
Little by little
Paint me green with
Those frosty memories of incarnation,
To mould me in a tree
That only gives birth to
The sweet fruitfulness of us.

Your promises are wintry sunrays,
Streaming into my pupils
Through the festival of skyscrapers.
Here on the road,
Cold gray stones are lying still,
To be caressed by your mustard gold,
Saying, "Hold."
And I'm holding,
Moving yet clinging to your song,
Like gravity admires every moment
The tangibility of earth,
The way sensibility overflows from
Its liquefied core.
Peaceful easy feeling surrounds me
Whenever you open your lips.
Voice, subtle and slow
Paint my walls with a glow that only
Speaks to snowflakes.
And I collect them, thinking
How they will melt on your hidden skin
That is so pale and bright
At the same time.
Patience it is,
Between us, letting me draw words
One after another,
Letting me hope that
I can make you come back
To a home, that has no ceiling no floor,
Only arms,
Constantly ricochetting
The pure silence of my prayers.

Maybe your hair is blue now
Blue like the song of a mocking jay,
Sweet and cold.
Talking to the wind,
Drenching under the faces of clouds,
Waving at serenity.
Towards the landscape
Your feet smiles to happiness,
The white of your scarf softens,
Soften you start moving inside my eyes.
But I keep it still,
Quiet like the fallen particles of sun
On each of your pores,
Who run miles after miles
Inside your skin
Along with the prairie's wings.
There I am a hidden seed,
Sleeping through the eternity,
To dream you near.

Lover, every poem I read,
I read with your face inside my eyes.
Beyond whiteness I climb,
Tinge that breaks on bookish cleavage
My iris wishes bonfire for such darkness.
Glow, glow, glowing ceremonies of
Our blessed letters swirl
Like the freedom of a thousand fireflies,
From the translucent jar named
Childish amusement.
I am that child
With drizzling thoughts on twilight toes,
Who walks mile after mile to drink light,
To polish the white nails of moon
Beneath midnight fantasy.
Sipping pages, caffeinated self,
Watches your feet in ballerina dream,
Rhyming rapidly.
Flamboyant ribbon-like memories
Adding colors to every breath I drop,
Clapping like cards of familiar hearts,
That fall one over another
Like I fell for you, being that scarlet.