She whispers from there: Where will you find your story? The violet roses are sleepy, and the mirrors
follow the white trees. The birds and the fabled river know that moment which
needs a smile and warmth.
I will
drown in the yearning sea. I will hug that train where we met sleepy sounds, so from
there my story will begin.
She said: the
river colors are descending from that balcony and they should kiss the eyes of
flower seller. That colored shadow told me: when the moon sleeps in your lids, you
will know a new kiss and you will see the cloud flowers.
The poem was published in Tajdeed lietary magazine: A Colored Shadow
