To Not Lose Myself
You can break out of me
time strips,
to throw me to the sky,
to be immortal in your hands,
to not lose myself,
to be a constellation,
and always looking myself young
with each sunset when we are love.
To let gods play for me
with harps of heaven,
and for their hands to caress
all that is missing,
to gather the groan dissolution
in a bunch of dew
when you go,
to can make destiny rain
and the tears of heaven
fall over all that is love.
Raining… raining over arid land,
to smell a wet soul …
at sunrise or to the sunset.
I might fly as high
in love with you
in ether.
Nobody is sad …
we have ourselves.
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