the piano, piano of the sigh that melts under eyes that have seen the closing of the day alone too many times.
the skins of sweet fruits that have withered in the grounds of pathways never taken- only on a whim, you said.
and on the junctions, forked roads, winding pavements, that fall forward, tumbling lights that scatter hoping to be caught.
where can I… how can I…
to reach the infinite possible breaths that roll and wander between your fickle lashes and my own distance, my own defenses, my own pretenses
now I’ve waited too long, I’ve become lost so, where will you wait for me?