EXPLOSIONS OF WISTERIA

I do not feel for you the same feeling

that one has

for an undulating corolla like the sea foam,

for mythical zephyrs,

for the explosions of wisteria

that spread the spring.

I feel for you

the feeling one has for the arcana,

for the Orphisms that live there,

between the dim lights and the heart.

I feel for you a feeling

similar to a spring that does not gush,

but which has within itself,

invisible,

the freshest sap,

the purest sap.

I owe it to your feeling

if in my soul pulsates the essence

that rises from the darkness.

My Love for you

no longer questions itself,

no longer needs time,

space,

my Love for you is Love,

without tortuousness,

without complications,

regardless of any dignity.

All that is my Love for you,

there is no other way to live it,

because you are like this,

because I am like this.

I love your skin on mine,

as you fall asleep in my arms.

The sunrise and the sunset,

one light,

you and I

one breeze.