Another Poem

Digging up all the research for pieces, I've come across an archive of poems and thoughts. Once, a Georgian friend asked me to define the word "how". I wrote him a poem as a response.

How.

In what way would I describe being stared at by someone whose head was turned the other way?

In what way could I describe a silence that is fuelled by sweet desires?
In what way should I describe this melody that melts like snow under a warm tongue?
My brain clicks.

“I have seen the back of my hand for the first time and gazed at it!”

Flowers still blossom under this same dark ceiling

And this is how I can smile as I weep and walk softly through the sands