Bread and Wine

You are a man who was made

to remain silent.

There are a few unnecessary words

left from our meeting,

a few gestures that scratch

the wound on the thin skin

of thoughts.

You feed me with prophetic dreams,

you bring bread and wine

that will not quench my hunger.

Your borrowed shadow

follows my dreams.

I want to find the purpose for which

my heart never stops wandering.

I try to listen to the cry

of a nearby river

that flows with the flow

of my blood.

Until another night dies out in us,

until the morning gets naked,

the light will be our air,

our stolen breath.