Page 62 - Litterateur March 2021
P. 62


                                                              And the inside of the

               Roses on the table.                            sky

               Who knocked silently it's within my reach

               at the door of the                             and you as a tireless

               home                                           swimmer

               and spilled odors                              you grab by the

               red roses,                                     whiteness of the

               on Valentine's Day?                            clouds.

               The smell spreads,                             Purple golden

               the memory is woven sunsets

               among the petals,                              gold through the

               My happiness is                                window the edges of

               blossoming                                     the petals,

               long ago reduced.                              and the calendar

                                                              reminds me

                                                              on Valentine's Day

                                                              and a date hidden by


                                                              of your birthday.
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