The sleep tugs at my eyes,
Like whirring black birds
Pulling at the corners of sheets.
There is one hole in the stone wall,
Through which I look and see:
A solitary dream,
Like a curl of smoke dissolving in the air.
There’s something special about this moment-
like a flower pressed in a book
A blossom caught in time
And I feel that we ought to stay here
In this moment, forever,
And when it has gone, in the blink of an eye
I’ll still be in this same place,
more by Lëaf Ednïwinga
photograph by Nomao Saeki