автор: karmen_777

quiet walking in the garden
smelling flowers and letters
maybe left from someone she knew before
even before
the flowers
the britlleness of the porcelain
the colur of bonzai tree
under autumn clouds ..
when winds blow in her hair
she sleeps under the rain
dreaming that she is water
I dont need an umbrella- whisper her skin...
It makes me thirsty, even more
even before
everything have happened
because it is so ancient
only dust can tell..