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leaning into the darkness of the night
leaning into the darkness of the night
into the stillness of the leaves, leaning, into
into
into the soft perfume of the flowers,
he loved when she was sad, -
suspended
between the sudden gust of wind,
every time he looked at the sky, tender tears
appeared, from nowhere, running on
her milky face, as if
caressing the clouds,
he watched her sad gaze
wandering among the waves,
dressing them with a last sunset,
the tide still remembers her steps,
while the sea always forgets shells on the shore
Copyright ©
Maria Mitea
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