The Mystery

Your smile is beautiful and rare. I can't figure which one is the reason for other.

Mind

My mind, grey, tense.

A drop of rain, hanging low on a cloud.

Torn between moments,

one I'm fading from, one I'm fusing into.

Restless, plundering my nights.

Pointing my days to the turbulent seas,

whose tides I dream I ride, I tame.

My mind.