Comments about Daniel Safta
She (On The 22 Of June)
On the twenty-two of June
She sends her tears to the moon
And smiles at the lonely cross
In remembrance of "us".
In her arms
Two poppies make no difference
Of the candles yellow bright
That burns in ignorance.
-To reach my hand and touch I might.
Rising her form into a plant.
She sees her carnivore-man
And bites his lips into their love.
With passion that boiled her blood.
Enduring this agony across his once body
That's screaming to feel and smell her skin,
Breaking the bridge over ...