Overturned Sky

In the well’s silence, a whisper drifts away,
a trick of light, an echo of stars at bay.
Reflections of unaria that the dream has strayed from,
where the sky empties out and desire grows frail.
And at the bottom, a whisper is heard,
fragile like a ghost brushing against the heart’s word.
The dream, stripped bare and now faded, reveals
the lincanto of a sky dissolving in memory.