shroud

it was snowing angel feathers in the orchard.
and her footsteps were leaving behind them
the ethereal fragrance of spring equinox…
she had decided to witness in silence
the prayers of the sun rays above the scent of cherry blossoms,
their requiem slowly crucifying her soul
on the uprise of summer…
golden drops of light were melting within them
the sand of seconds…
but she was so used now to live inside that orb of blindness
that even the brightest day was covered in veils of sables
embroidered on her heart…

© Liliana Negoi

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