Not clouds are in the sleepy sky,
But wrinkled silk is above me...
I'm longing to jump so high
And fall up there into...
I want to swim and drown even
In their creamy bliss,
I want their kisses pierce
My skin and flow underneath...
Weaved clouds are a veil
That parts sometimes me from the stars,
Just a fishnet
That the Divine spreads
To catch some moonlight before the dawn
And let me drink and feel its taste,
If I surrender to the sweet embrace
Of those mighty wings
Of the awakened Earth...
But do I have any tether?
Perhaps I could get back my loss,
My own airy feathers...
Clouds
© Copyright: Алеф Элайа, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113072100460
Свидетельство о публикации №113072100460
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