Not seek shelter. Coloured the words gentle.
Desertion. Can I be in this landscape? Did I sit alone? Next to my one foot an open book was engaged in light conversation with the wind. I try to draw your shining eyes in my sentences. When I do not see you, I do not see you.
When you touch me, when our bodies are quite close, we are part of each other. When I wrote your name in the shadows, a ray of sun fell through my window.