marți, 6 noiembrie 2018


I can hardly bear
the warm air and voluptous wind
the twisted, paper like, leaves
dancing on fiery colors
the pink clouds stained
in deep blue
the long shadows of
ash perfume

It is impossible to endure
the velvet tenderness
of this indian summer

I renounced bread,
chocolate and wine
I am fasting on crying
and feel dried up
like a hanging apple
carrying the sadness of
its agonizingly long death
on my shoulders

I need the rain and the cold,
the words freezing on my lips
I miss the depth and darkness
of the never ending winter nights

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