The Reality of Lines

I am the best like this
with nothing left
hanging
dried purple tulips
at each door handle.
With no audience
I face the blackness of each line
to learn what remains of reality.
The hope that all could be new
when everything is
already gone.

image

@Maria Stadnicka

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The Wood

I am a real person
And everything known to me has a colour.

The sun gravitates around me.

When I am beautiful
In my collected tears grow forests.

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Photo: Maria Butunoi