a season
in which hearts open like water lilies
to be picked by angels and offered to God

in which the blood twirls inside
until we get dizzy and lose our way

in which touches become switches
that can freeze time

it’s our season

a love with the blood pressure of a pilot
10 heart beats in v propulsion
to raise an Einstein–Rosen bridge from this poem
over the water at the festival on Yangtze our closeness
cleans the solitude stains from our souls

in the darkness of the world
we light our blood
as in a prayer from the body
to the soul