summer night

And it is wide and clear and lucid;

in my memory that I haul,

about the tepid summer night

and I was lying next to you, all vulnerable

under the unyoung window

that allowed the warm breeze in;

you held me with your shaggy hands

and with your hazel brown profound eyes;

and without words I heard you,

asking me to give you a chance

for I was fragile and young

and had been broken a numerous times;

I asked for time

to which you declined and

claimed to be right and not just same.

You owned me at the point and

I had no way back.

You held me in your hands,

like powdered dust in a fist

which only blow away at your will.

It was just too late;

because I had already been crushed into powder,

and have you ever heard of powder

returning to a grain?

So;

I was frail and weak,

living in the hope that you would look after.

Not realising, you only cared for grains,

and the next summer night

you had a grain

and I had a storm

that took me away

to distant places

where,

there was everybody;

but

you.