Heatwave
Lost in the middle of a sea
Of love, of pain, of waves of heat,
Swept by the current of this life,
I dream of you, of us, of home
And yet I cannot breathe anymore,
For I drown in my own nightmare.
Gusts of winds are dancing with me,
Whispering lies and truths about now,
And here, and there, and then.
I use their spirit to write in invisible ink
The rite of love, my right to love
And rise in my own fictional world.
Caged in a whirlpool of leaves,
So green, so brown, so swirling wild,
I feel distance closing in on me.
As I draw in the meaning of their sap,
I feel but one not with the land,
But with all these surroundings hands.
The heat wave strikes and imprisons
Beings like me, the leaves, and you, the wind,
Into pervasive structures of thoughts
That may just last or wither away.
The heat wave is my life of immanence
Now, so better accept its warming touch.
Lost in the middle of a sea
Of love, of pain, of waves of heat,
Swept by the current of this life,
I dream of you, of us, of home
And yet I cannot breathe anymore,
For I drown in my own nightmare.
