stolen sand

tired raindrops
pearling on the soul of sounds
filling my chackras one by one,
layer after layer of heavenly tears
blessing a rainbowless afternoon
and hiding within them the scent of fall…
of my slow fall…
september is sweeping away tenderly
a few imaginary grains of dust
from the bed of amaranth petals
on which i laid my breath a while ago…
and while the flame of a candle is getting ready
to bring to life the scent of jasmine incense,
those tired raindrops are losing their innocence
to my gaze…

© Liliana Negoi


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