Raindrops flow down the pink umbrella. Signposts on the crossroads and love engraved in tarmac. One naughty seagull instead of hat at the top of a statue head. Unexpected walk through the past lives. Mine or someone else’s? I don’t know, but how beautiful they are! Few stolen kisses through the narrow passages, when nobody’s looking. Sudden sound of the church bells awakens all my dormant dreams.
instead of bouquet
toward the sun