It started with flowers,
and birthday wishes,
a garden in a winter of glass.
Then I became, Steve McQueen
in the great escape –
covered with sight
and the emotions
of the great bards.
Later still, milk tea
and the rain came.
But you breathed for me –
and asked how the air
pulses so much.
In this mommet,
there was no passage
of darkness – all the life,
is my life.