My sister has a gun.
Here, I hand you the trigger.
You can end me with your finger tips.
The color of your gaze is blood red.
Is this Hate? Is this Love?
All I know is that your shadow
has all the light I can take.
when you turn and
reach your fragile hand
across time towards my skin,
it is as if a rain walked its way
across a thirsty forest.
Centuries of dust are dissolved.
There and here, a sun light shaft casts
it’s perfect moment into the petal of a flower.
This flower. Your petals,
brushing wet and full of small prayers
that say to the sky,
Please kiss me.