WINDFLOWERS
for elke
of air they are
and nothing
more
one
through another
falls
it is a flight
of glass
within
no one
would hear
how they turn
upon themselves
it is
to hear
a white
explode
where that air is
your hand
would go
off
to glaze
summer
for elke
of air they are
and nothing
more
one
through another
falls
it is a flight
of glass
within
no one
would hear
how they turn
upon themselves
it is
to hear
a white
explode
where that air is
your hand
would go
off
to glaze
summer