Calypso and the Scent of July (Fiboquatro)
A
hot
summer
stole my wish,
unprecedented,
like a silent thief in the night;
although I adore the stars here, for they welcomed me
as if I am one of them, yet, my heart longs for the city tower;
I felt the night breeze…and silver moon above me floating patiently,
it is breathing and breathing, with me; I’ve named the unnamed wild flower
after me, climbing to a tree with sweet fruits, soon to be reaped by me.
I should be writing the scent of July, as I wait
for blue September, but I’ve no
will to do it, for
I’m worn out,
without
my
love!
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