Right Before My Eyes

The night is foggy and I feel the humming
of these splendid fireflies hovering in the fields
that analyze darkness and moisture's influence on the longest days
disappearing right before my eyes.

I can't help
but feel the longing of words
that might disintegrate
like sins in the confessional.

Each credible thought, each promise
disappears as if never mentioned
out loud.

All these secrets mature
and fall like a leaf
from an October branch,

forgotten and left alone
and completely silent.