And what

is to become

of our winter

shadows

and conscience

stories



if we do

not share

them most

between us.



let my

watercolor

memories

bleed on

to your

page and

yours to

mine.



to sit

on an English

hill and close

tight your

eyes

and share

our life

conversations

back and forth

in prayers.



our voices

like the echos

of an

ocean wave

between two

great ocean

shells.,



your voice

do I hear

whenever

I close

my eyes.



and wish

upon your

dreams,



that you

share with

me tonight.