ett   blommande   rum
                                               reserverat bara        för dig själv
                                        där dörren  torde ha öppnat sig
                                                 i ögonblick av sekunder
                                          ur en inre källa av vackraste liv
                                         slog upp sina nakna sköra sidor
                                              i böljande vågor sköljs ansiktet
                                                    med glädjetårar
                                                           ur älskvärda
                                                                  tankar
                                                                     orden
                                                                       att
                                                                        tala

                                                                          om
                                                                         vem
                                                                          du
                                                                          är

                                                                  handen
                                                                griper efter pennan
                                                             ur tidens bläckhorn
                                                         vinden förde henne hit
                                                       steg upp ur glödhet källa
                                                      där språket vaknar
                                                    spricker ut i vackert nät
                                                          av kärleksord