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She dreams.
He is standing at the end of an imaginary bridge made of blue fire and sighs, under the new moon. He dreams as well.
They look at each other in the distance, they do not speak.
A fine transparent line intertwines their plexus. A cat´s eye floats in the middle.
No sound. No time. Their tears are pure.
A white horse jumps over their bridge carrying orange blossoms.


She explores him without touching.
In return, his syllables are yellow rosebuds streaming into her crest.
They pause. They wave hands.
Their dream is as follows:
She is giving him tiny insects to play with and build fortresses
That he can later destroy.
He is pulling her wet heart and placing it on a faraway mountain top.
Their minds glow like mysterious spheres.
The wind blows syncopated, there is nothing to be done, or said.