Categories: ArtworksPoetry

“Pre-war summer of booksellers…”

* * *
Pre-war
summer of booksellers.
Time has passed,
and a happy life has passed
between fingers.
The war is in its fourth year,
and the wounds of torn
nights mortally
wound the hearts of the living
and the souls of the dead.
Friends betrayed
from faraway lands.
And their tears like mercury,
are soaked-with snake poison.
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2 years ago

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