Poezja

It was frightening
to grow up in light.
You wanted to come out
in dark for gene intimacy.

There were long
shadows of words, which
had their own character
and morality.

The suspense hovers.
The spark ignites the double
kiss when asked, stitching
the break.

In finding myself
anew, I lost you.
Death will not separate fragrance
from the rose.