rain washed the sides of tranquility I was playing with
the wet sands of departure
dreaming of the colorful journeys.Felt like missing something.
In the garden an intimate tablecloth was spread.
something in the middle of the tablecloth,
like a shining perception:
A bunch of grapes
ended all guesses.
mending the silence confused me.
I noticed that there lived the tree.
when there lives the tree one obviously should be.
one should be and follow the track of narration
to the blank text.alas,
O colorful desperation!
-sohrab
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