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chimaera
Poems
Feb 2016
Berries
A spring like afternoon.
So,
I walked my thoughts
in the sun
and picked
here and there
a glance
of other-selves
(the ripest ones
decaying in fallen
houses, the left overs
of bygones and forget-me-nots).
Filled myself
in reddish and bluish,
a euphoric sight flying.
Then, my doorstep.
22.02.2016
Written by
chimaera
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traces of being
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Traveler
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