quarta-feira, 6 de fevereiro de 2019

#172 - Lines

trembling leaves 
upon the lake
shivering in happiness
for the sun, their lover

in the miriad
of colors and shapes
I sense my eyes smile
for they have been gifted
with the wit
of the alchemists

and any time
I forget about me
I make myself blurred
like looking to 
the shaking lake
without knowing
what is leaf
and what is fish.

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