What’s hidden behind
The winds
silent kiss

Lies a
Sacred jewel

A perfect stranger
Swaying in the
Romance of the
Nights silky mist

When butterflies fall in love, do they feel humans in their stomach?

in the quietness
through the door;
of silence.

She collects lovers
like wild berries,
not even realizing
that they’re
poisonous

Our backs hold stories
Not even the spine
On a book can handle

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

to me,
you are
an art

                              to you,
                              I was
                              a tragedy

~
And do you see that rusty steel
That doesn’t let touching your heart
Please share with me, what may you feel
If nothing ever makes you hurt.
~