allergy

as the leaves unfurl their sails
and the seasons begin to flow
through the tranquil waters on gales
tinged a pollon-yellow
by the weeping of flowers
who crane toward the sun
but cannot bring him within their power
my thoughts follow the stream and run
towards you, as though you are the sea
into which everything
is inevitably drawn and must be
the end of my traveling

i think i'm allergic to you
like the pollen in the spring
i can't breath near you
without choking.