paper lanterns under azabache skies
Are you there?
Silences chasing
acute
stridulations
of
chirping crickets,
absentminded fireflies
wandering
in an empty backyard
taunt
the delights of my solitude.
Piercing absences
re-colonize
unchartered deserts of
a less
egregious me.
In this darkest night
the possibility
of your
existence
turns me into
a paper lantern
under a desolate azabache sky.
