I am blown by winds I don't know.

In the traffic of lilacs,

or walking behind the gauze

of ephemeral forests

that fade at dawn,

I can't hide, the clouds are flung

from the beauty

of one who eludes me,

streets are covered in the water

of burning tears, the bridges

fold up like bat's wings

and creak accordingly,

the land masses linked and electric

flash like taffy,

I duck behind the soil-bound roots

of a fallen giant oak

and smoke my soul.