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Choka, isn’t it? ~28C (I don’t)

24 Apr

Days In The Blackberries Field

Felled trees on the streets
with an excuse about years.
Doves want to make nests
smudging on windowsill.
I haven’t planted,
my flowers always wither.
I cover my eyes
stretching cobweb through lashes.
I don’t want to see
anything further than dreams.
Amplifying noise
I try to die down myself.
Different springs are here.

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