pollen

moonlight dances onto the leaves of clarens breaks into mirrors of flowers' fairies and colours our bees

Chora's Palace

Nestor was alive in me. Even in the fog, could survive. What a sight to live! A slave of his- Where the fragments lay- Had warned me: "It was an uprising" Oh! What an honor, For the hawks to follow me!

Searching for a Title

Spirits warned me. Your soul showed me you were in a green-white-brown mood. We talked, but silence was its echo... Were you depressed? In a comic, a spirit led me to your pearl (same color as mine). Sorry for your loss. Was it mine?