At dawn

At dawn

with the flames dancing near our bed

your naked body is a poetry

an offering to Mother Nature

that fill our soul

and with your hair scattered in my pillow

I whisper to your ear

incomplete verses.

I don’t know …


like a bird without his wings

I don’t know to where turns the wind

I don’t know to where sing the trees

I don’t know

to where take my feets

maybe your bed is the best option

for the grey days


(… if only your bed

 was real …)