Roots, earth, sun, moon. Water.

I stated, laid a claim over the poppies.
A hidden magic within, suddenly perceived, orange petals, your heart.

In your silence, I learned not to interpret
Sadness or indifference, but enjoy you, love you totally.

Easy, our own black cave and the heaviness of breath, the sound of music coming from your bones.

Our bond grows wild, ignites, swells, pulling us both into the life of the poppies. Cycles: beauty and sleep.

One hour and the petals bloom, later, the sun changes. Shade. The petals greet the dusty earth.

My hand on your heart. Your hand over mine. Later, the sun changes. These words, merely a shadow to our life.

Roots, earth, sun, moon. Water.