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The house of winds and waters

Two emerald coasts frame
the cape of the ancient pirates
Among its smooth greyish white rocks 
cedar trees being grown faintly within the centuries 
their volume curved exposing to exogenous powers 
their lawless shadow, a shelter 
under the strong Mediterranean sun.

North wind’s continuous touch
intercepts worries that being fired
shifts them far to the mountainous villages
until their thin structure accedes to the hasty clouds
becomes one with the view; thoughts, cliffs, sun and sky.
Hair disheveled, blown towards all directions
fragments of sand all over the skin.

Morning dreams lave in the water edge
dazzling crystal surface of the sea hurts the eyes
Aqua iridescences invite to be integrated
A deep breath, the playful buoyance and I caress
the wave’s ripples being embossed on the fine pearly sand 
of the untrodden seabed, pure light and eternal time, 
my underwater kingdom lasts as my longest breath.

* A poem inspired by the place "Mikri Vigla" in Naxos island, Cyclades Greece.

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