The knife runs into my blood
makes its journey through the absurd maze
of my inner impermanence
It keeps me constantly awake
its sharp theory opens a clear way
to the deepest end of my despair
Only the soil of my homeland
on the dirt path to the hazelnut tree
could turn it into a blunt shovel
to dig a flowerbed
in which two simple daisies
would open their wings
I found this pose very intense and profound
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Taugh days turned into lines!
Thanks for your comment Luisa
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You are so very welcome my dear Abel!
It is always my pleasure
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Beautifully dark and alive!
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It would be a good mission to seek beauty amidst difficulties, because then we’d be very productive! Thanks so much for your comment, Dawn!
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