Nostalgia

I remember your kiss,
Sweet pomegranate explosions in my mouth.
Our baked bodies sinking somewhere
in that yellow meadow;
Watching shadows of trees change direction
like hands of clock.

How often we would penetrate
this pine forest in our conversations and reach that patch of rhododendron jungle where,
you'd insist to have a small cottage filled with butterflies,
a stream that's always running a melody and spring that would never fade.

Remember when we were simple people;
how we wasted hours poking at an amber oozing evening fire
or made pebbles sprint over lake and watched them drown.
When we defined violence by bitten lips and nibbled noses.

And sometimes, when I am more lonesome than alone,
I hear the echoes of a wailing wind rushing through my soul,
reminding me, of the time we spent together on the mountain top
Tying our dreams
to prayer flags.