My Fears

Dear lover,
I dreamed once
that love could coexist
with my moving feet

I dreamed bright and holy
desiring to differentiate
between the closing of the eyelid
and blackness.
I wanted the stopping
the sleeping
but none of the blindness.

My heart,
love is nothing more than an
infiltrator
our blood has not yet recognized
The breathy prayer for harmony between
keeping oneself
and losing oneself
alternatively

Love
is hallow tree,
full of songbirds.
We are woodpeckers
trying desperately to break in,
hoarse with destruction.