From a torn arm, life had blossomed anew. Echo of a springtime long past, the branch, whitened in April’s perfume, wept a single petal upon my brow— your letter, sent in white ink, awakened droplets from my soul. Today’s serenity, that ethereal blue, was kneading within wisps of white the dough of longings; the park’s choirs of forgotten verses reminded me of life resurrected from death— begged for in the mute depths of a soul lost among the ages... Life, blooming from a mangled trunk, reminded me of you.
