Treasure Island

Raquel Angel Nagler


Reality (1)


Lately
When the evening is old and soft
The breeze drags into my room
The sea with its reflections, the fish of longing, its algae of sadness.
You murmur: it is the quiet in you
That flows into a place of understanding.
It washes gently the silences of the night.

Submitted: Sunday, March 24, 2013
Edited: Monday, March 25, 2013
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from www.trilogyofthemirrors.com

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