strong wind blowing the trees
green leaves flying around
orange leaves lying steadily on the ground.

I looked for you in the distant, plural reality though you were so close to me.
I was looking for your vibrant eyes in other men, in vain.
Meanwhile, I discovered the charm of your manhood painted with my eyes.
Manhood can be viewed from different perspectives.
Respect, safety, trust, protectiveness,
it is not experienced by all other humans.
Feelings differs from person to person.
I fell in love with you without reason,
without calculation of the probability of a broken heart.
I want to cherish all your human creative elements,
all aspects of your manhood,
biological, anthropological, psychological, theological.
I want to become a notion of divinity,
to feed you with the unknowable.
I want to become indigo, scarlet, gold,
to be coulors of your soul.
I want to speak the language of your dreams
to give you a magic moment before sleep.
I want to love you infinitely like nobody ever loved you
before and after me.
I want to listen to your breathing at night
and in the morning spoil you with a passionate kiss.
I would like to live in your dreams
and wake you up with the aroma of coffee.
I want to be a leprechaun in your hands
and dwell in them as in a house in a tree.
I want to dance with witches
whispering in my name oldest love spells.
I want to become magic in your eyes
to enchant your famished senses .
I want to swap roles with you
to understand your unique world.
Love is not rational, it would not be love.
You can not touch it but you can prove it.
My love is more real than real.
Our love will never become smaller dream when it comes to true.
I belong to you.

Whatever turns to whenever after paint is applied to the heart. Can eyes really mentor coulors that seek a place suitable for art.

I want to change a plain season by repeating history so my tales can be "twice upon a time", I have an invisible mountain to climb...perfect moments leave trails of emotions in sync, I followed my heart when it was taller and bigger than me.
l could only follow without any sight of what is afar because my heart was too soft  to run into obstacle.

I could only follow without any sight of what is afar because my heart was too soft  to run into obstacle. At some very sharp and sad point my heart hardened and that's were I saw "forever" and "one last time" holding hands.

I want to win a plain season because nothing fades.

I love  rain, I love It when it's dearly expected I love it because It is not driven by fear nor biased, it hits every object, truthful to its nature, it takes charge and lets us know when it's in town...with such cool humbleness.  
I love it, I just love it because it has a smell  
Of a fresh start, how coulors introduce their mild brightness in the presence of clouds. How I wish for it to read me a bedtime story...a story with only one word, "drop" .
A very simple and subtle way of showing us that the only cry that's destructive is the one with thunderous words.
Rain smells like victory when there is some gingerly blowing wind, I love rain because it cannot apologize for getting us wet, yet we are still upset, upset with some evident wetness of the meeting. I love it because it falls so hard, so deep...only to multiply.
I wonder if the distance  between the clouds and the ground ever changes or is it fixed like the distance between H to O.
The spirit of oxygen...how alive can it keep this liquid? How poetic to see tiny little droplets on a leaf of a tree.
The droplets in formation as I look out the window, poetry has no form  
And nature has the smooth audacity to prove that.