Mornings
In pinkLike a childYou sleepCoiled upPeacefully.EveningsIn blue-Like flowersWe sleepWith theChaliceDown.* *
And you are thereNowWhile me-And you are thereCovered withBlanket, Small and sorrowful
I dream of you…I dream of you…
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FruitlessGardenBeyondThe silenceI draw aPictureOf youInside mewith blood.
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I`m a childOf the sun,Of the meadowOf yourHandsOf the poplarsOf melancholyOf existenceOf dovesI collectMy tears inBowl of glass.
n. nour *