Dry Leaves

…and this is how the story ends…

…leaves fall as we listen the beautiful words of migrating birds… the lament of the trees drooling all over our bodies, concerned about the tragic news… as we speak, dandelions are kissing the feet of our loving memories… so peaceful, yet turbulent as we decide the future of our love…

…remember the leaves? Yes, just like falling leaves, dry falling leaves, spreading throughout the woods, flying to fertilize new soil, just like that, our love becomes fertilizer in other hearts, our melancholy is fertilizing other souls, for we love each other more or less, less than more, more to overcome the fear of loss and regret… we’ve become dry leaves like time and space… we grow older and in an empty maze…

…our love resembled those falling leaves… pushed by air, never knowing when or where to land…

…so as a leaves we fall… gliding to a new ground… wondering which new soil will accept our dry texture…

…life has become the wind, we have become leaves, earth has become our mistress… loneliness our sea of dreams…