And sometimes, and only in spring,
a dove from the river's soft vale of lilies
will fly as close to you as trust,
and a calm in the great reds of autumn
will, as often as you need, lie down
beside you, raising a brow you've known
above the eyes of the only woman
you will ever have a need to dream or touch.
In the coastal strains of music full of lovers hopes and dreams upon, wearing only warmth, fresh scent of the ocean and delightfully joyous smile...I look deep in your dark gloomy ochi 'cross the oceans and lands between us, am aware by sweet memories your heart is tortured...and you are for eternity mine...
Shelves full of books are all around me. Opening the different volumes I take a look, and find the pages covered with writings in unknown scripts - tadpole traces, bird feet markings, twisted branches. And in my dream I am able to read them all, to make sense of everything despite its difficulty.