Sunday, 10 July 2016

Envisage

the sky has eyes
grey undulating sea
when I rise
to the blink


sheaf of papers
make noise
I do not find words
between



since sky
in this moment
I have to be
vine on a tree



looking down
there is nothing
not even
shadow of stars



this perfume
I can only envisage
before the wind scatters
from where I stood