I am colorless when you don’t see me,
Gray like this season of sorrow,
Loneliness clots like blood in my veins,
and the breath of words turns to mist
on the lips of longing.
Why are you so far?
I don’t know how to cross this threshold
between ash and song without you.
Free the birds from my burdened heart,
and cast the sun of yearning upon the ice!
Ah, to spite the ice—
kiss me again on the lips, I beg you!
