A broken step―

halts me. I move towards

you at the inner call.

Clockwise, going

sensual, you turn into

a greek fire.

Make me angry and suffer.

Don't carry the legacy

of dark peers.

Reading my poetry for

a while, you fumbled

tracing your fingers on some beautiful words.

The moon would

shine tonight to share the crocuses.

I may write your name

on scented winds.

Easy lips. Were your trying to say something? Yet

you fall on ancient adage.