Sunday, August 15, 2004

The young deer

Simplicity, smooth featured life
Painful and delicate faces of reality
And one, Aurora, mementoes
And endless day
Merciless sorrowfulness, in different faces
Takes over
Memories of yesterday's tiles
What what there, will never be again
The violent noises
Yielding a space
Dreams in purple
Again me.
Selective isolation, uncertainties
The old age, the flux of the stories
A timeless line
A tameless line
Broken clouds
Afternoon vanity
It's the same day
In its own sane way
Me in smoked pieces
Ready to disappear
But still there
And hereinafter
...Here

....How much I wish I lacked of speech....

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