in my dreams

let's drink a coffee, a tea, let's talk about us,

or just let's watch ourselves at each other

to feel together how often love kissed us...

[it whispered at my soul's roots, the spring];

let your mind's steps tread on the doorstep

of my blues using a poem without uttering 

love's words, lusts, and longings but only be

felt in the emotional charging of your cells;

let your chromosomes' scent get spread up...

tenderly to touch my meadow of buttercups

placed in my dreams among time and space

with the noise of verses moaning your name

…

whispered again at my soul's roots, – spring;