because love cannot always fly without resting, our lives return to the wall, to the rocks of the sea: our kisses head back home where they belong ... Under the trees light has dropped from the top of the sky, light like a green latticework of branches, shining on every leaf, drifting down like clean white sand ... Clasping my arms like a climbing plant the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace. Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning. Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul ... Home