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Dec 2024
Sandcastles,
Collapsing like our dreams.
At the end of the night,
We feel the chill of dawn.

Draw a silent fish,
With water gathered in its mouth.
Victims of our surroundings,
We follow the earth,
Cracked like it.

In the sand of mistakes,
A mother brews Turkish coffee.
Mari Chubinidze
Written by
Mari Chubinidze  34
(34)   
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