dragonflies
in sweet
summer air;
i am alone
and i have
seashells.
i crave for
the plastic
sunflowers
on our
childhood
dining table.
i miss the
devil's ivy
growing
from the
green bottle.
the small
nameless
birds are
trying to
make nests
in the balcony;
an ocean in
high tide
is crashing
against
the glass.
i am cold
and these
wet clothes
are slowly
drying on me.
i am alone
and i came
only for the
seashells.
alone,
and in
circles
these
dragonflies
in warm
summer air.
everything
somehow
becomes
you.