Bliss
Forgive me for doubting that
You write signs in sand.
My breasts are too narrow,
and my strength is nothing.
Behind hopelessness and nonsense,
I always hear harmony,
I hear Your words,
and see Your paintings
of tender forms, and
lengthened lines, with
expressed sexuality.
It is the same bowl, and
the hand is the same,
and the mouthful, and
the taste. Only the moment
is different.
Poetry by Dejan
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Written on 2006-12-18 at 10:59
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sabereh lotfian |
sabereh lotfian |
betsy |
binesh |
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