I am here.
I am in the breeze that dries the evening’s sweat from your chest.
I pray covered by petals of fresh roses.
I can smell you: scents of burning suns, oranges, and battered seas.
Hallucinations of an acoustic guitar. Its body shape melts under your fingers like candy on the tongue of a little girl.
You and me running barefoot on cobblestone streets.
The rim of my red dress torn.
Against cracked walls the same night plays with our dreams over and over again like children play with colored kites.
You didn’t think I would come back.
Well, I did.
The secret of a blue hand fan slides on my rosy cheek.
The moon undresses the wings of an angel.
image: algus; Shutterstock; [link]