GOOD
MORNING, DARLING
good morning, darling,
you, who wrote me poems
on the knee of the night,
expounded, engraved in the dust
I'm ruffling your hair with my thought,
carried by a moment -
I'm coming,
approaching
to you unknown,
but known
metamorphous from my fantasy
prelude of my thoughts
dreams
overtures
come to me,
gentle as a fairy
sleepy
fragrant like acacia
quiet touch my neck
like silky scarf
let me feel
the night you're wearing
come
be my stranger
again
