Two passengers on the
door, two freer in the wind than the
sonnet, an
opportunity without screaming,
my eyes kiss this purest
moment, the
woman tells me
to come to bake bread,
I laugh at the woman, the
woman laughs at me,
breathless, without a shadow,
she burns silently, the
woman stays at night,
the night sings a
song around a song of dew,
a garment from the skin of the womans light, I
smell my light - this is you, yes you
.Your sleep and wakefulness - this is you again
, the woman tells me again - be until it comes
, I say to the woman - Wow, if it is time for the reed flower,
the woman will tell me that it
was a cold absence, it was a cold absence, the
soil without love, the garden was the soil of vagrancy
, the woman dances for
me, the woman asks me, the
woman calls me, the
woman understands me,
the womans hand is not beautiful
, the womans hand is rare,
the womans hand goes
at night Its moonlight,
I say to the woman, I
remember your house, I
remember the good time of crying,
I remember your shoulder, the woman smells
me,
its you, yes, youre
asleep and awake, youre here, again,
the woman tells me to
stay until it arrives,
I say to the woman,
"Oh, if its time for a flower."
