I would live in your eye, for a while,
To see how the mountains still give birth to springs
And when kissed by the deer
To feel how the grass blade still groans.

In your fist I would live, for a while,
To feel carried by you at your breast
Like a hunted blackbird
Laying wounded among the chrysanthemums.

I would live in your hair, for I while,
To listen how the wind hisses through groves.
You bolt the thoughts off your temples
For you to recite whispering little poems.

I would live under your footsteps, for a while,
For you give me back the rest of a journey
And the heavy clouds, ill with so much smoke,
To gather them with diligence in snowed balls

And from now on using new strategies
To dress all the trees in fairy clothes.
Me, snow flake, return home again
Will linger in your palm…for a while.