the nonchalance of clear skies, smallest undulations of spring. they alone know the thoughts of dew. o dew, i confess i allowed myself to be bound in knots of sadness and i looked away from your daring splendour.
they told me, yes the dew told me, to live in a world you must first dream it - and in dreams lie responsibilities. with the smallest hands they pried my eyes open, such a clear feeling now that i see the sky boundless and in poetry is my freedom. a slow unwinding, no memories, no flutter, as if nothing is known.
this sky! these skies with its diaphanous coolness, ignorant like a deer, waits for me to take my place with two arms.