Sunday, 7 August 2016


For quite some time I was unable to move from the chair. As if by moving I was accepting my fate. And I wasn't ready. Not then. There was an absence, not only of him but somehow of myself. He had taken part of me with him and I wondered if it would ever return. 

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~ Give me lines on glass The dawn tides And walking past Bring me feathery flashes The midnight moments And backward glances ...

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