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Edera Jun 2018
Fin
Fear-shaped autumn of surreal tragedies,
and our ashes shall be scattered
over the neon rust city
in their mutiny where I sense the breaking,
a preaching fusillade of artificial smiles
where we have to breathe ether.

Too embraceful and vain.

May be I even believed
once

but
no more.
Edera Jun 2018
Mini marshmallows
in the sea of cocoa
soft pink boats
Edera Jun 2018
Is there winter in her mirror?
This morning, she woke up to the sense of first snow.
Her roses bloomed. Still she was afraid to look at herself.
On the bridge, not far from her windows, someone held a dozen balloons, letting them float into warm sky, one by one.
One after one snowflakes fell in a parallel world.
She put her white linen dress on and went outside.
Edera Jun 2018
Into the arms of silence
the dusk is falling.

She wonders
how soft
may the night's skin be
where he is.

Empty corridors breathe cold blue moons.
Strangers speak in confessions unknown.
Certainty of solitude cuts through the dark.

And what color is the light?
Edera Jun 2018
How I wish
I could show you
the real me.

But the wind
of what is gone
yet lingering
sweeps the day
away
until I no longer
see.
Edera Jun 2018
How far
is that star
shining most bright
in the sky, she asks.

As close as you fancy,
he answers
with a mystery smile.
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