i step into a dream’s warm waters,

i follow the same ghost ship in the distance - 

sleep is a sea of black roses;

the owl’s cry sends ripples in the winter night:

a lightning in slow motion

traces fire letters on my heart.

summer interrupted by a gust of cold words.

frozen scene: dance and carefree laughter have stopped. 

where has the sun set in my heart?

is it still burning in the no man’s land of my dreams,

behind the wall of repressed guilt and shrivelled secrets? 

this is what remains:

traces of colour and of an inevitable fall,

a gap in the day. 

time holds its breath

then spirals down into the silent darkness:

the wishing well of all hopeful hearts.