photo : marshlands, Marahau, windy gardens

to pass by others 
and not seeing yourself
in the mirror of the waters
the sad affairs of the world
invite themselves into 
your most beautiful dreams.
Awake, you don't love yourself as much
as what you see through the windows, what you think you see anyway,  or what you want to be.

*posted in June 2022, edited in June 2023

Une réflexion sur « poetry* »

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