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neon birds above plastic souls beneath I have no choice but to feed my soul with the secret of trees I still dream in the skin of the rain I write with my eyes poems of touch This summer I chased perseids again I tried to forget all about this age of anxiety, or about the eyes with no echo For a moment I let reality crash like cloud castles and neon birds spring above my tired city
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Sep 4, 2022
Sep 4, 2022 at 10:56 AM UTC
neon birds above
neon birds above plastic souls beneath I have no choice but to feed my soul with the secret of trees I still dream in the skin of the rain I write with my eyes poems of touch This summer I chased perseids again I tried to forget all about this age of anxiety, or about the eyes with no echo For a moment I let reality crash like cloud castles and neon birds spring above my tired city
irinia
Written by
Romanian
Sep 4, 2022
Sep 4, 2022 at 10:56 AM UTC
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