Renovation

You wear new dreams now,

The cut stones were gossiping --

They get bored staring into

The multiplexes in the sky.

 

You pin new shapes to your skirt,

The apples were laughing,

When I told them of the brooches,

I made for you.

 

You sing an octave sweeter now,

The nightingales are jealous --

I naturally inquired when I heard

Their raw silences.

 

You found boreal perfumes,

The butterflies were missing,

And the flowers are complaining

Of your lack of ethics.

 

I wish I had half the voice,

And twice the courage,

To beseech your eyes,

And find whether I survived

The renovation.