Friday, March 21, 2025

Giver

soon the gold
it drips

your lips
as sunrise

mockingbird
it sings the tune

who else?…,
when the night
it falls

your dress
a morning breeze
“Hello” 

all the sailors
boats that sink
and the mist

a woman-siren
causality of the senses
here she whispers

and you of all
the love
the life

giver

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