Friday, January 23, 2009


In the middle of the night,
with the sun high
on the other side of the world,
the silence hurts my ears.

In the dry desert,
with the poles melting in the cold
I try to make a fertile spot with my tears.

On top of a mountain,
with my zest so low,
I fly with the eagles and scream.

Standing in my shadow,
where the light is home,
I dream of a dream.

Standing in my shoes,
being who I am,
I am happy with what I have.

Looking at you,
every time like it is the first,
I feel hunger for you and thirst.

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