The mountains, gray and quite transparent, drift one over, under, through each other, high above the desert salt and sandy cliff. When memories begin to rise from my sonambulant and sleepy brain, twilight clears clouds that seem to gather to defy the sun, the warmth, the life, the dance, the bright blue beauty of a dying summer's lore. When stars begin to wink new fears rise up always new fears. Is God mean and blaming small, frightened and as full of fear, nay vile as creatures born of his loneliness, born in his image, born cringing, forlorn. I will never know when you declare you love me why you do not show me your face, nor abide in my presence, nor touch my hand.
Love makes the heart grow.
Love answers all questions asked of itself. Love smiles in a heart free and alone. Love is your thought of my love. To die today like this, unleash to float among the molecules, at last released . . . And when the Gods decide to hear my plea, my hope, the dat - um left by you, the wind will veer the sky, the earth will wait.