trying to unite the flavors
from ashes sweeping
I can only sit next to the empty bench ...
looking at the same sky
The night is dark ...
the full moon has gone past
just a pained whistle I hear over and over again ...
to where this heart ends
at the solitary end of the dictionary I hear here ...
here under the same sky ...
waiting for your promise with a ragged piece of poetry in your hand ....