another sun to burn a fire in me,
to shake the frozen lake down to its core
she's young but once she was an ancient tree,

she's not a flower anymore.

where do they dwell,
deserters from mountain peaks,
the depths,
the deep hell, it can reach
but touch them no longer.

Swoop, soar, angels or spirits
floating between worlds,
white bodies and black fingers,
calling the freedom of flight their home.

sleep deprived,
succumbing to the dreams
you gave, I shifted
once became one thousand, then I fell
into wakefulness

tripping again,
I taste the subtle sands the desert blows
and understand the visions
you impose
without a threat, I know.

But all I want is a soft and dreamless sleep,
oh please,
dear oneiros

exhausted, I bend to kiss
the burning dark,
I find your lips
blinded by this cold eclipse.

the winter's first love was spring,
but they lost each other in the fires of July.

after some time,
they became friends

forever

across from me
she is playing the guitar
and I love her