I raise a glass filled with water
may the shine reflect on someone’s eye
and may the trepidation for an impeding lover
be stopped by a gesture of mine.
I knit together treads of my hair
in a pattern of a silver spider web
so dew that clings to it
slips down to a glass.
I raise the glass again,
form your face out of smoke,
I think of how miserable you are
and that in this war I have won.
I narrow big circles
the blue leaks out as yolk does
I add to dreams the missing color
come with me, let us not see,
I am the post of my own glass
and I dedicate a monument to it
in a a petrified posture
a figurine from a fountain
that only gives birth to tears.