so many crickets
willing to speak after the storm
beneath the soil
roots explore the wet blackness
searching for water
and a source of life
you can never tell
what the flood will wash ashore
the waves keep erasing the tracks
without a question
for their passion is infinite
and their love bigger than the sky
sometimes fog
makes you see things clearer

don't be fooled by this white dress
these curves and lines
in truth, I am wearing autumn
colourful coats, wind at the feet
waving dark golden hair
got caught in her adorable breath
her face blooming with wisdom
gracefully she walks in
bringing with her the cold
that goes into my hands
and I hide them
in the pockets of my coat
drying my hair in the wind
drinking from her well
thinking through her slightly
melancholic mind
for you see, I am always wearing autumn

a tree abandoned by the forest
and overshadowed by the sky
knows this kind of loneliness
where no doe would seek shelter
and no bee share its fruits
seeds fall gently into the stream
where the wind gives no answers
and the clouds race forward
offer no shoulder to the teary twig
there the roots are small, yet they find
a way through the hardest of soils
and the driest of seasons
hide in a place where the fire
doesn't turn cold

I keep a ?
upon my forefinger
as I hold it up high
funny enough,
it gets lost
in the flood of !s'
yet it yearns for a .
or another **?

the side of you that you're most ashamed of
will come back years later, haunting your mind
        sun is sailing down behind the horizon
sitting on the porch, at the end of another day
I just can't distinguish one from the other anymore
                                            trying to make it count
running around the house, chasing sparks
each run bored me a bit more, knew every corner of the cage
you wanted me to remain silent, perfectly happy
that way you wouldn't have to deal with the words

a wingless child
left traces of tears on the pillow
drops of innocent affection
tried to glue the movie back together
I believed those faces would have something to say
         but as my face grew older
their attention withered
repeating old patterns
until you know them by heart
         pain is just a reminder
leaves when you start listening

my fingers found new depths of the pockets
         walking through those narrow streets
anxious stomach, anti-social behaviour
shouldn't have let the fear guide me on the way
         little child selling the dreams away
for a chance of buying fake wings
and maybe fly for just a day