Tumbling
Before I knew your name, it was just a move of empty steps. An endless string of clumsy movements, which jump, just to fall in space and time. No memory. But then you came to my sips. And every letter has become a clam, Which keeps every sound from you. In the shell of your sea eternity. From that instant, from the first whisper, I forgot that I had a landing. Now I'm an acrobat. I say your name. High. Where there is air. It drops into my lips like a gull, after a long dead, the fish found. It remains as if to rest, and then flees to the sea again. My rocks are old. Your name is fresh. The old rock does not fly. The fidelity is not born. It is quick to try other fish and it will never be a fire by my will in my quiet thirst. It will be a spark. Enough to burn. The thrill of longing is easy to quench. But let your name flee you. I will tell you all the time. There is no lasting love from the echo and only the name returns.
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