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Oct 2014
When I blink
I tender the grey clouds
The soft movements,
Gentle the fierce wounds -
Grinding memories
With my bare hands,
Too dense and bleak.

When I walk by
The lights go low,
The leaves turn yellow,
They fly and sink
Swirl and speak
Silent sounds
Of primordial cycles -
Too dense, too bleak.

When I breathe...
Shivers of cold lives,
The echoes of distant deaths,
The murmurs of deepest depths,
Surpressed in lullabies -
A sonet of primordial cycles,
Too dense, too weak.

With a single gesture
I can make the Earth stay still.
Time is a ***** villain
And I like to hear It scream
Seconds, moments, lifetimes -
Under the pressure
Of my fingertips -
Primordial senses
Too dense, too bleak, too weak.
Georgiana S
Written by
Georgiana S  Romania
(Romania)   
897
   Brycical and ---
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