.
this time I fell
trembling
like a feather
from a hovering bloo space
in unimaginable loops and whirling wills
only to land on the invisible skin
of a heavenly creature
.
and I lost my blue eyes
for a moment forever
to the perfect time
in the middle of a night
in the nowhere garden
becoming us
air . . . true ….. . . . . . . …….me
infinity . . . . . . …… . . black stones ….. . . . . . . . . . . ……as eyes
life . . . . . ……longing . . . . . . . …..cycles
.
in which I fell
into it
into shiny needles
nudging itchy into my chest
lost
clinching to my breath
stinging flowing fragments of glass
was I being . . . . . . . . . . ……held?
.
.
the perfect time
found me being born
and lost again
this time I fell
between the cracks
every second every hour
with finally nowhere
to exist
but here
.
.
.
.
.
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Something has certainly begun. Personal depths of old and a curious imagination for the unshaped, moves in me like guests at a polite party. The sound of the clothes flapping silently in the room, the flickering of lights and the noise – and something is here, presenting itself to me.…
Aiming at enchanting and evoking poetry in everyday life Sisters Hope is part of The Poetic Revolution. Read more about the movement here.