Moon above the dancing leaves,
your eyes find their way to my lips.
Its silhouettes split mares to a fantasy,
those lovely stares filled a hollow as,
roses bossoming in empty pots.
There are words we'll never say,
hiding underneath unfiltered soil
like pictures to be hang on walls.
The weight of years like linings of our skin,
Our voices in deep surrender to rue,
flipping pages in search for sacred meanings.
self-fabrication in clear-cut syllables.
the depth of soon to be written lines.
Here we are, large and condensed.
We kissed like a feather falling,
then stalked the stars.
For the first time,
my fingers felt every living cell,
raw and wild all over your skin.
Then we are who we are,
with every molecules of dreams