I want a story, built memories
accumulated places, smiles, sun streams through lashes
be allowed to cherish
be cherished in return.
I feel, I feel all the time
it’s not just melancholy
invisible strings tying me to all
tugging at my heart
an itch I cannot scratch
a silent music,
a sunset unobserved.
A leaning tree,
is his bending fatigue or comfort?
Drink at my shadow, sleep at my feet,
lend me your dreams, of them I’ll take good care,
I will tuck you in with them, with a sparkle of my own.
Pink flowers blossoming down on your music,
warm air sweetly swirling,
bending, welcoming.
Give me back my time, my story, my life, my youth, my vigor,
all of which, everything and yet more again,
meant to be surrendered, to you.