If I were tears
I would paint rainbow
on the shade of your iris.
If I were pen
I would be like a mighty sword,
like a stem of thunder
in the hand of a knight
in shining armor of the
moonlight.
If I were ink
I would write the last poem
I would draw a sword
on a paper
against the tip of my pen,
like the throat of an hourglass,
gushing your heir with my hand
gushing my hand with your hair
combing on your tress
pouring your hair,
with the strokes
of my fingers.
If I were sound
I would make a music
out of your silence.
If I were woe
I would sail forever
in the ocean of blues
. in your single tear
