I want to love you with a simple lovewith words that logs hadn’t said to flamethat turned them into piles of ashes. I want to love you with a simple lovewith signs that clouds hadn’t made for rainthat turned them into nothingness.

she weaves a basketfrom threads of rainthen hangs it at the porch. inside the basket she lays her babyborn from the womb of dusk. when nights are thirsty for lightthe teeny-weeny baby glows. then the basket at the porch is swarming with loneliness.