The lighthouse

My thoughts and my dreams, my wishes, 

the water and the sky, the water in the sky.

The skay over my head is just liquid, fresh soft pure and salty,

comes to my heart and melts my sense, 

it is now colling down the love, freezing and stoning to last 

on the surface, permanently.

I touch it, touch her,

the stone dissolves its minerals all over my hands 

and they sculp your face,

some blurry, provisional image of you