The room was completely black except the stark
light of a single candle. I had drove
the whole night looking for her, through the dark
and damp to the unknown. This beating love
propelled me toward her, it is what has made
me move. This love is what keeps flowers bent
toward the Sun, it is the serious blade
that splits the skin. I sit among the silent
music of the trees, I'm starting to think
that I must have her snow white skin now, lest
I become mad. The water that I drink
fills me with her, I feel she is the rest
I find between my dreams. I'm moving to
her like the flowers grow to skies of blue.
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