insomnia, poetry by Dorina /neculce-Romania
in paradise. I live. the poet closes a book.
remove through tabs a rose petal shook insomnia. me scratched on the face I have deep wounds. he makes its way under the skin. is night? is night? is the day? is night and day. month swallows silk clouds. oooo, yes. night is coming soon. is night, always, always the same