balearic, november

in poetry •  7 years ago  (edited)

and in between light and dark is small
it explodes upon the rest of a gaze

to find in oneself that very space
to allow it to unfold into the umpteenth dimension

and in its edges and corners, flowers blossom
speaking only in terms the winds and waves can hear

the rush of the world, all at once
the soft bake of the sun

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