Sandwiched through
two cloudy loaves
made of breath
I observe
the purest of blue

one nudges a sharp line
gently from below

draws her dream silhouette
an imaginary residue of slopes


she
the one who allows me
to miss you now
when I am away from mystery
and because I am mystery
lives in there
uninterrupted as a dot
where planes cross
to create dashes
same color as the mare’s tail

the one above on the contrary
is as unpredictable as
the contours of the flowers in cotton fields
where you would be the breeze
to jolt the atmospheric

as the indigotic immerses languidly
she gets bluer than the blue untouched
thinning
at the end of the suggested tail
deeper and fiercer so as not to disappear
but leaves an echo
of its trail
in your mind

soon that will also be shut
the port to and of another realm

the whitening molds subtly the shapeless
pales the light to an analogous fluid
all sharps – lines – flowers - fields melt
into an underwater blurring sea life
where creatures are so small or just hide
not from us but from contrasts

slowly darkening  we forget
about ourselves and the girl’s dream fades
she forgets

the you and I  
becomes tuningly unimportant
we know so well now
it is not for us
illusions of light
of reflections
are just about
other worlds far aways
while
night falls
along the earth’s curve