In The Slender Net Of Stars Poem by Bozhidar Pangelov

In The Slender Net Of Stars



I'm sinking.
At that night the grass
is embracing me velvety.
And it seems to me unreal
that I'm an island sprung
in milky ways.
Yes.
That night I'm spilling
with the tide.
And the joys of directions
into the worlds are fusing
in a kernel.
I'm breathing uniformly and deeply
under the arch of your arm
and a cradle

Saturday, October 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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