there must be a way to exchange
poetry with pain,
else what would i say
the moment you speak
in silence.

you are far-away.
everything you say—
each pause, each movement
wanders the hidden trails
of despair.

i have known you,
but not in the deep places
of rain.
you slip by like a ghost,
fleeting like a
promise—
your answers are questions
in this season
of storms.

if only i can sprinkle dreaming
in the still waters
of your eyes,
perhaps you will learn
to close them.

let me take away the tears
that would not fall.
in their stead, i shall plant
red flowers.

–delunna