grain

Posted by Author on May 11, 2022 · Leave a Comment 

cyanotic whispers slither

between heartbeats

like a river ribbonning its shores

among almond trees

and night sways its liquid ebony hips

over endless fields of thoughts –

if we could stop the flow of sand

how would we ever know

that one perfect grain at which to break

the hourglass?

on my shoulder

the song of a nightingale mirrors in your breath.

© Liliana Negoi 2022

Filed under drops of thinking - poetry