I writhe
with the moment`s hit of the ground
I become lost
I sigh
and my silence is sweeter.
The trees
Swing
in dream balloons
they swing
blown by longing.
And I forget that the real hurts me still
In void
and it floats
towards the last version of hope
between the yells of longing
of your arms
it floats still
between the morning`s light beams
of human ephemeral
and I am
or not
between thousands of mispronounced incantations
of a spell
scratched in the skin of my almost shadow.
Awake me!