Summer in the city
hazy, grey.
Wet asphalt shines
like a black piano.
You passed by
and the air ran out of me.
Now April lives in my chest,
a secret
I dont say aloud.
You look through me
like I am a veil.
I dont know who I am,
only this
I am yours.
Say yes
when the whole world shouts no.
Let me be
your rainy Sunday glow.
We are an island
in a sea of sorrow
where laughing or crying
is enough.
Your smile is a question
written in a foreign hand.
Stories without names
knock softly
on my unspoken door.
We dont need
a castle made of sand.
Only your cold fingers
warming
in my hand.
Yesterday
I was a ship without a sail.
Tomorrow
a windy path without a map.
But today
your love is a shining rail
leading me
from winter
back to the sun.
Ipola
. .
