Memories of a dead bird

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Once...

I felt your memories like

torn cotton strewn everywhere...

I wished for them to make a warm blanket

to enwrap me through the cold, cruel nights...

But, now...

Your memories are like scattered feathers

of a dead bird flying in the sky

Will a blanket made of them

keep my heart warm?

*******

The only puzzle, My dearest, is this: Did I blow a bubble In your dreams And burst it before You saw it for a bubble? Was it a bubble, Or was it real?

****** Do you see the tsunami waiting to rise up inside me? Don't you ever come to my world again, even by mistake... The waves trying to escape from me will spell doom for us, drowning both of us


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