14 december 2012
Cinderella
On the white sheet you lie stretched out,
your hot breath is caressing my cheek softly,
with the yellow-peach rain you did come
when the thunder hangs grey-white curtains.
The deep smell of your perfume overwhelms me,
lingers in clothes as it sometimes do,
we become part of each other, time passes,
when dreams and reality meet
and on the morning I find your lost shoe.
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade