My dark friend
It's four in the morning, the rain is splashing on my forehead while I gaze into the dark sun up there.
There is a black sun.
I want to share it with you.
No, no darling, it's not the gray moon and his majesty.
She was made from a romantic winter, from the silent prayers of passionate lovers, from the solitude of a wildflower, from the hidden desire out in the desert, from those standing rocks in the middle of the night.
If you fancy me, beloved, my sun will be yours, and I will establish my seeds in your heart.
You will be romantic forever.