I dare not dream of things
like money growing on trees,
words falling from the sky,
or the uncaged elegance of condors
breaking through porcelain clouds.
Words surround me like breaths of fresh air,
and through them
the hollowness is filled,
the emptiness lifts,
as I feel your true beauty,
the luminosity of the sun,
apparitions of the moon,
and premonitions of the stars.
© Connie Song 2022. All Rights Reserved.
