The Rose Within You

When the birds dry
in your eyes,
and the quince blows
through your heart,
listen.
Search
for the sleeping child
within you,
Search 
for the loved one
who left you
when you climbed the stars
upon the corpse of love
within you.
​
Perhaps you promised
her braids:
“I shall return
with something worthy of us.”
And you were exchanging
your wing for a rock,
​and your soul
for solitude.
And you had become,
for every stranger,
a question:
“Will you not tell me
who I am?”
And he says: Me

When visions
turn to stone,
and you walk,
bearing no dream,
nor being born,
weep,
until the dew returns and you rejoice,
like love
in the beginning of love,
when you touch
you
within you.