Ioana Geier
The draw seasons
I was tattooing with the glance
the waiting sky
too tight for the temples
in a ring's emptiness
the draw seasons
world not rustling
inside
shut as opened
I, strange presence chased
by a gong
up to-the heart-beats
where from they started
cranes to rummage my being
into a blooming snowed
spring?
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Ioana Geier.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 12.02.2010.
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