It's been almost seven
Months and six eclipses
Since the repetitive sound
Of a metal train wheels lulled my thoughts
And fresh languid lazy summer air hushked through the opened window
and ruffled my hair, blew the chocolate black back to forth, for a moment and covered my eyes. Completely. The aroma of vanilla and honey have vanished into the pine and palm tree canopies and partialy deep into you, as you breathed me in. The road dust crusted my eyes and I said in a low murmured voice: it's temporary, sweet darling. These tears intimidating the corners of my green would have been lighter with mere weight of a single droplet's fullness. Emotions tore them down. Each itching. You didn't have to be psychic to know it is wise to turn your head for the square angle away, and pretend nothing happened.
You put your headphones on and surrepetitiousely tapping the beat along the music. Melodious were the charming contours of a passing landscape. And those near~dusk dreamy hues, have coloured my silences with beautiful wine grapes and rose bushes, puffy sheep, running children, honking cars, fruit and vegetable stands, stone bridges, horses having a picninc on the remote meadows. Grass was waist high, villas rose and faded among blue and green, swaying as golden wheat on the horizon, subdued to warm Zephyrs. And gardens were everywhere. Out of the train's window, within your dark magnetic gleams. Our thoughts became dreams; growing into my soft yearning palms, lines shone and shone. Until the road's end.