Reading you turned me into an enormous ocean—
My thoughts rising like tidewaves,
Cresting and falling through midnight depths.
Just as I'm about to surrender to the deep,
Your verses become lifelines, braided with dark grace,
Drawing me to shores of salvation,
Filled with sand of solitude.

But they don't abandon me to it;
They Whisper tales in the sand's sacred script
Of that cerulean soul trapped within you-
The blue bird you kept caged in your heart,
Fearing its freedom might shatter your 'arts'.

You'd drown it in whiskey's radiant folds
While the world walked blind-
The courtesans with their painted smiles,
The bartenders with their knowing eyes,
The shopkeepers counting their coins—
None of 'em heard the muted song
Of that imprisoned nightingale
Within the walls of your heart.

Such sweet cruelty, dear poet,
To that tender creature
Whose songs only you could hear,
Those became...