MIST SHAPES

MIST SHAPES

        I will return in your dreams every full moon night and we will climb again together towards the lighthouse on the rock, the holy shore of our love…
        My hands know by heart the sleepy outline of your body, that they collect like dew in the lazy mornings spreading their light away… It is enough to close my eyes, to reach out with my hands and I feel you again between my palms, immaterial statue of mist over which I blow love, to give you life…
        What a pity dreams get shattered just as nights do and the mornings find me with my hands wet of the mist I have built you from, but empty… always empty…

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