Like the delirious rivers in spring
I am drowning in the arms of  lilacs
and enjoying the purple dawns,
lavander happiness.

Snowdrops!
no need to be ashamed anymore.
I drink bottled dreams of eternity,
as suicide-bomber butterflies stir my veins.

my heart
like a small drunk boat
between two coves  
with no oars,
like the the top of a match stick  
ready to be lit

my heart
like a bustard
wandering on the mine fields of regrets,
like  seagulls
lost on the fingers of
a fool poet

my heart
either will get lost on these flows
or resurrect on these ebbs

poems like no words
is my heart