in a corner of the room
the pulsation of light continues
all night long

the walker sleeps without pillows
he is preparing your dream-colors
for a painting session

I see a row of forefathers
around the bread
from which you bite with care

you smile
as love takes my tongue and
moves it along unfinished words

the leaves of the forest are ready to follow us
everywhere
and the wheat sea keeps your hair alive

we have to wait for a real sunrise
to bear witness
on the rolling sky

you are cutting my thoughts down
only to see
the surviving snowfall