Τρίτη 1 Μαΐου 2018

Thoughts arrive like butterflies.....

Untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me

As her body once did

All five horizons
Revolved around her soul
As the earth to the sun

All been washed in ...

I take a walk outside

How quick the sun can, drop away
And now my bitter hands
Cradle broken glass

Of what was everything
All the pictures had
All been washed in...

Why?.....




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