Willowherb on the edge of the alpine   
Girofling the rock   
Of a little dance   
By the lake   
Oscillating in a loving wind.      
 
Fear of opening   
To the mystery of the other   
A completely different mystery   
That smug smile   
To capsize the moment.      
 
looking for you   
An escape during Lent   
Between the two abysses   
The one of having been   
That of no longer being silent.      
 
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