And suddenly…dawn looks not as beguiling anymore,
Through translucent blue-white curtains,
Open eyes wide once more, yet nothing to wake up from,
Miss Morning comes armed with black whirlpools.
Outside morello blossoms whisper,
Walnut trees sing still more defiantly of change,
What better reason to listen,
Than the one that you cannot contain yourself…in yourself?
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
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