The brush of the wind, a sweet ecstasy.
A sunrise’s caress, soft and warm.
It hums beneath my skin,
waiting to blossom and fly in the breeze.
Yearning for time and this endless moment.
A song of white fire, that tastes like rain;
the symphony of a spectrum of colors
becomes a whirlwind of uncontrollable desire.
Fantastical dreams that should not exist;
the colliding of midnight stars, along the twilight’s horizon.