In the tulip field,
I breathed a different oxygen.
It was a mixture of pollen and poison,
Once your scent was in the air.
We ran together toward nowhere.
There was no danger or despair.
It was just you and me, dancing the birdsong.
We made our own music.
We didn't care about the tone.
You kissed my shoulder.
I kissed your hair.
We found a clearing.
We join the grass.
Under a century-old tree,
We wondered how long we would live.
Our flesh would die when the time came.
Our love would remain like roots.
Nothing is able to put out our flame.
YOU ARE READING
Cold days of a heart on fire
PoésieI should scream to the universe, But what is my voice after all? It is just one more between billions, And, with my death, it will not exist. So it is better for me to show what I need By writing my love, anger and dreams So I can make people see on...
