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only by the softest touch
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Hyacinth garden with a request from pleasures an echo is heard
resurrect desire found in a four letter word
dreams travel
instantly
like flash bulbs
igniting hope
and then gesticulating
in unconcerned pose
in a corner of the attic I hid that illusion
a color print obscured by many boxes
in shadows sitting strident
comfortably desperate with no prediction of soft salvation
around the edges
on tip of tongues
reaching for words
but only tasting dust
a tempting goddess lay on covetous cloud
and try the deafening siren that is so loud
predictable relegation, in shapes that are sometimes too much
this somber gray sorrow is lightened only by the softest touch...
