We are confessing through art,

It penetrates among us, through us

with a wonderful force.

We are kissing each other

with newborn verses,

images of darkness and light

under the Sun, under the Moon.

A morning way too strange

caresses my body heated by thoughts,

your voice on my mind...

Our destinies approach the same path

waiting for the dance

we have never danced .

Rose petals are sprinkled gently

by your Guardian Angel.

Mine is still standing in line

at the flower shop.

I wonder what sweet petals

He will leave on my threshold

a new scent of perfume created just for you...



Copyright Adela-Adriana Moscu , January, 12, 2005, Lancaster, PA, USA