Dear friend
I have only one picture of you
the one with the lady boxer
which I had turned gray
has come to life
in metallic shades
of red, black
and all the white light
at the feet of a rust dream

a storm is coming
endless black days
rising with dust and darkness
wont you remember
orange afternoons
the diagonal shop
outside which the storm waited
inviting the  black.

Evidence

under your tea cup
i left my mark
while you wrote stories
about others
the stain never left
and you ceased to bother.

Letter 2- To Dream

.

Dear Dream

You have a new face

in a familiar frame

You have come back 

a hero

in empty wine bottles 

making rainbow at my sill

You have come

like a liar's scrapbook

and  Blek's rats 

are looking for it now

You are back

like the empty house

looking for a tenant

dealing with dust

and the month of May

Dear Dream

you are back again

i gathered more white

all this while

wake me now!