We have fulfilled our obligation to mend the past.
The stars were right
Ours is not a lucky constellation although at times
I hoped we might yet drink from jugs of champagne
because I don't know the exact hour of your birth.
There is nothing I can do against the first words
spoken in a city of prophets.
When we exited the tavern you blew a kiss
to the singer and the streets fell silent.
In the house of the priestess I contemplated your delicate face.
I miss your curious gaze.