You slide across the branches,
Your glitter is fertile pollen,
You're shadows in the shape of leaves.
A wind that ripples the crest of waves against the current,
You caress the rivers but you are the springs.
Your eyes: buds which are moistened by the dew,
Beyond webs of obscurity.
The branches swing you
Then you glide on your transparent wings.
1 | Nothingness |
2 | Medusa |
3 | The Grave |
4 | Sepulchres |
5 | The Land Beyond |
6 | The Monk |
7 | Stagione Oscura |
8 | Penelope |
9 | Spirit Dance |