DUST OF LOVE
DUST OF LOVE
The dust of love
scatters in the palm.
Particles carried by the breeze
across the face, through the hair...
They blur my gaze,
bring tears to my eyes...
Ah, when the past
lands on the palm
just to remind you.
Ah, the wounds of spring
scatter memories...
Under the veil of mystery
you're no longer here.
And this tear isn't
yours,
it's not sad,
just sliding down my cheek by chance...
There's no enchanting dust on the palm,
the breeze
played with it.
Just enough to hum to me our "once upon a time, there was a love"...
Rada Jović
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