Our love was a finch once
frail against the deluge
flying into the winds as though it were strong enough
It’s tiny shadow soared on the waterfront
with relief like the sun would want to last forever
But, it’s shadow soon faded deep into a mist
The sky became angry, betraying itself
The waves stopped laughing
The sea stopped caring
Even the mistral tossed about our love
tearing at the wings that it used to carry
tearing at the songs that is used to sing
And now, I search the wreckage littering the sand
overturning the conches, gathering the feathers
Because our finch is still breathing as long as I am
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