Poezie
The Green Glass
1 min lectură·
Mediu
My skin
On your skin
And
Some symphonies
In between.
After you’ve eaten
Your macarons,
A class of angels
Are now randomly building medieval bridges
Connecting the paths of falling crumbs.
Meanwhile,
I’m plunging deeper,
As if sinking
Into a steep green berkenmeyer glass
painted by Willem Heda and full
Of soft, warm jellyfishes
So sleek to touch
That I also fall into a slumber,
Without noticing
When I have begun starting dreaming.
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