Silent the night sinks <br />like a young girl into your eyes… <br />Timidly I paint you in my thoughts. <br />With a brush made of fire and pain. <br />I don’t want lightings in storm <br />but I want the rain to wash our faces. <br />To clean up sore wounds. <br />To wash up the insult, the whole! <br />Lets it rain! – over the ember burning! <br />Tender mist knitted of love <br />by my fingers with enamoured yarn. <br />You are painted by doves’ wings <br />in the white canvas of my dream…<br /><br />Maria Ilieva<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pastel-5/
