She didn't have to say words
but wrapped me in her exotic silence
words that might be silently said
would reside in the end of the tunnel ?
would it be like touching you ?
through the dew of the morning
a flower in need of a painter
in someone's desire
a spirit in the middle of the night
to visit you while you are asleep
to kiss you gently on the cheek
wanting more of your unknown
the metaphors of time