Ela Roseni Poems

It’s raining. I am going out on the balcony. Black angel, don’t rebuke me! I’m so thirsty!
I am hearing thousand of white horses and the fight dogs of the city
And the Subway has no destination
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There are the paper clouds
where I write words with the black wine
the angels will read the angels will recite
my poems
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In every Monday
I write about the roads of the dry forest

a brown squirrel runs through the room
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