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May 2016
The man who sits at the edge
of the water
shares the bread
(for you and to the birds).
Familiar with the dream far ago.
He can count when
the lime blossoms crumble
(someone passes to some place
and love is the longest point).
Entire.

Then (i look) it is
maestoso.
Bozhidar Pangelov
Written by
Bozhidar Pangelov
482
 
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