Do you remember ...lia?
How I used to wait
every Transylvanian spring
just for your velveted self?
The air
was still rare
there
up, where snow
and the sky below
shared the dripping thinness of May...

Grandma always dragged me all the way through
the park,
for the bark
and your purple stained white...

Do you remember?
The pine cried amber,
like ginormous grains of sand
on the forgotten shores of my closing eyes...
Whys
and sighs
and lies...

Are you still there ...lia?

Or some angry god has burnt you away
like everything else we love?

Worry not ...
'cause if I'll burn in hell,
I shall swallow all my tears,
to water within
each memory of your leafless scent...