we could talk, but at the same time,
we could just sit under a tree with the
sun kissing our faces and our freedom
in our grasps. words sometimes don't
work; you have to let your surroundings
speak for you.
and right here, as the flowers are softly
blown by the wind, i tell you that i miss
the words that you whisper right next to
my ear when the moon is kissing the night
sky goodbye.
