I lost something in my deep sigh.
Looking through the hole of the bottle, the water is still.
Maybe only replaced – not missing!?
A phone rings in the library’s silent area – second floor (although they call it level 3) and the rest of a sunset clutches on the chimney’ [s] ilver surface.
The finalization of a Thursday.
My next poem will be about theatre – drama = tragedy = comedy
The visual idea is done just the words
you know