projectors

 

at least some leaves
the wind touches them
what feel I know
my chest fulfilled
and open hole
where warmth and gates
that stretch its ribs
to grasp your sense
that eyes burn with -
they hit through me -
the love of void
nothing to think
nothing to fill
one mind has stopped
forgot to flew
only the flow
of rhythm and light
that light as dark
as sky daytime
and blue as
sky midday tonight
maintain mountain
the feather cloud
that carried on
how can I doubt
when fly above
the palma trees
at least some leaves
as silver knives
they touch your palms
the dervish dances
one hand raised up
one hand to earth
to both my love
to you I give
the mirror ring
the transparent field
the balm as silk
pink whisper lips
my hug till crisp
two fall apart
the god blows leaves
at least the wind
touches them
I feel