the wind wrapping
the water into grey ghosts,
the darkness twisting
like a flower.

She is a man,in the blood stream,
gushing within her veins.
He acts her woman, willingly,
and he likes it every bit.
Together they create by chance,
a tumultuous ****** history,
never before seen, perhaps.
This subversion remains a secret,
with a meaning, on which
they never ever bothered.
A mighty cyclone, she transforms
that uproots structures monumental
if she really wants to trample everything.
He is a prankster wind,that love
billowing saplings; ripe rice as well.
Hovering on air, over land and water,
tumbling together, exploring depths,
they create mysterious wind patterns,
that add to the folk lore and myth.

Dark wedding vows
says my dying love.
If you were to live again,
beside you I would stand.
As you'd take your first  
step, your first death has gone.
I'll shadow your heart with mine
eclipsing the moon in my light.

The way you write things
has saved my unsaved spirit
and made me want to run in meadows
and make the dead flowers and grass jealous
because I was revived
by the blues you wrote