Of The Wind

A star is falling
and burns the ocean.
I hide you
and you deny me
always under no conditions
you are traveling in a shell.
You laugh
and I keep afloat in your laughing
I bait the wing not to ...
You still laugh and you grow smaller
and then the rain comes
and drinks you.
The poetry, nothing
a blank number
more deserted
when with blood.
Misty absence without time
the night of gloom is sailing
Ash and sea are mingled.

by Georgia Daliana

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