on a more hopeful tone

you remind me of the dream that I have never dreamt, of the dreams of my old grand-grand-fathers and dreams of my ancient, beloved god-mothers – the dreams one has inside and that others can’t have.

you remind me of the warmth of the center of the earth, of the burning lava – that in my imagination feels soft and hot – desirable – against the cold, pale white of the winter outside.

you remind me of cats sleeping on laps, of lovers’ embraces, of future and hopes and pretty scenery from trips of the past. you remind me of  pretty tones of red, of summer days – oh, the descending sun!, of scents ever so sweet from Sunday afternoons. you remind me of billions of poems and trillions of songs.

this is not a goodbye. you remind me of (brief and hopeful) departures.


now, your turn!

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