a flower knows, when its butterfly will return,
and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;
but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,
when I don't know, if you will ever come back.

i want to be
in love with you

the same way
i am in
love with the moon

with the light
shining
out of its soul.

depth and substance.
the two most exquisite qualities.
be it in a poem
or a person.

the saddest thing is to be
a minute to someone,
when you've made them your eternity.

your smile.
is the ultimate
golden dream.
all the poems
in the world
are waking up from.

it is to be savored like a
seabreeze-whispered

dream...in the mysterious
blue minutes
before dawn

like a secret
infatuation.... like slow
languorous sips

of green tea... like a lingering
glimpse

a self-wrapped
paradise

like his name
upon my lips.