like a moth that was going towards the fire.
I have seen you in darkness...

Ticktock-ticktock
thus said the mockingbird of a clock...

So deep in my ears,
there is a song...

There is an end to me and you,
but not to us...

In the oscillation of an accordion
we were gasping...

I dreamed of you at nights,
I sleepwalked you in the daylights...

Your smile,
the white queue of musical tone...

I dream of you
in jazz...

Others
Bridge us back to ourselves...

We must again,
learn these mundane paths...

Butterflies of poetry
forever flutter in their reflections...

About an hour passed
in the arms of silence...