His dreams blossomed inside me like jacaranda trees in April.
His exquisite poems – written in purple ink – adorned my skin.
In the dim moonlight lying in bed – all scented in lavender – I ruminate.
A great poet once said: “Extract the eternal from the ephemeral.”
While reading his poems I tried to do just that.
Between lines I found only one thing: love.
Charles Baudelaire: “Extract the eternal from the ephemeral.”