Ariane: A dream, a fire, a butterfly

Your lips were boats of roses

Hair, the fire of life

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The voice of spring, of freedom

Laden with the aromas of pines,

Sounding like a dove cooing another

I fell into your soul, into the chasm of dream

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Your blood

As if an endless army brought happiness

To the stronghold of oblivion

in the depths of my heart

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My blue, tearful world faded into

bright shades of scarlet skies

emerald forests

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Sunlight entered the gate

of your amber necklace

and your rose fell into

my soul’s garden

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But your eyes didn’t gaze on my isle, my ocean

they longed for him

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Your thoughts, paper airplanes

found refuge

In the green ink letters

of his notes

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Two blue flowers of those eyes

slept on the plain of his chest

Your heart’s star electrified his soul

Leaving in me the violet darkness

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Sorrow drowns my vessel of kisses

and my butterfly doesn’t

perch next to yours

on the cherry tree of love

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Sleeping in the silver, dreamy cedar

the moon painted

Hope in light,
On little boats of dream
In stars; the flowers of the night,
On lighthouses clothed in golden suits

From your eyes
Where the sun sets
Among your placid hills,
The fire is lit
and our souls are merged
By the voice of spring
Amid the green avenues of pine