After the dust settles
the ruins of love.
I kept raising it in the air
again, I learned it the hard way.
My way through the thousands of runs in error,
has not been marked out at
the correct junctions direction.
I travel only hesitantly forward,
yard while listening to the song of trees, the wind.
I just shut up, all I'm saying,
are written in sentences. they whisper
to the moon, not the one reading the hearing.
This day is crazy silent auction tomorrow.
It's the feeling of the air of silence sighs.
Bird cherry smell, the winds bring to me,
but the ruins of the dust in the air without lifting.
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