Fleur

From a crevice in the clouds of the sunset sky
a marvelous light spreads
and the figure that we can see as breaths the air
have not yet noticed the flower

the figure has been awakened by the envelopping blinding light
and abandoning itself to the whisper of a small bird,
it couldn't notice that it has been deeply wounded
as the flowers bloom within the clouds

but, sepia-coloured memories
were reflecting the silent sky all the time
and now I notice that in that person's emotions
I'm embracing the fragily

the heart of the sky burns so painfully the sunset!
It was your desire.
"the gaze overlaps the obvious happiness"
but better give it little by little
but again it's too late

the truth is that in the place in this time
I took your hand e drew you near me.
Can't we come back anymore
The possibility of a meeting in that morning...

the sunset you painted is far more painful to describe
and those painful memories
are even more painful to forget than to collect with regret

(in flower... in flower...)
if there's something to do is to give you that flower.

again I'll serve this withered flower, and I'll colour myself with it.

A sepia-coloured past...