on a blanket stitched with tears
a puddle of sorrow can be seen,
the reflection of a broken soul
cracks a smile through the woven
cloth.
in a window, which reveals
the darkness around us
drops of moonlit sadness
splash silently on the pane
in the silk of unwinded hair
wind is cut like gems
and thoughts flow through
like a golden stream
and in the humid night
filled with serenity and
recycled air,
as hard as her heart falls,
not a sound is heard.
- k y r v t
