If love was a starry, clear sky,
I would find for us cosmic patch
of lunar infatuation swirling among planets.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in the tails of comets sparking in your eyes,
at that time when ship with your body reaches port of my hands.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in the window of our shivery hearts,
in sound of bee wings next to the ears of yours.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in fragrance of linen laid by your hands,
in tea brewed with your golden dreams.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is here
in your singing amidst forest of birches,
in cello playing in the darkness of our alleys.

If somewhere is heaven,
it is in the oaths out of our mouths,
it is in long, common stories attenuated in house full of lilacs.