In leaves of grime and grease
She blossoms her tunes
And livens our noons
With fragrance of jasmines at dawn
which tower over streets
Of asphalt and horns
And soars into clouds
With pollen on wings
That glitter in the twilight of dreams.
Holed into hours of targets and tasks
I search for her trail of feathers in haze
That light up my lamps at night.