in Art

Promise

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I do not remember was beautiful.

Sometimes out of proximity

eyes lose their power

to see the obvious things.

I only felt you thin

and trustworthy shoulders,

I destroyed your lips thin,

I accepted your warmth.

Were you beautiful …

And two curved, two hot

hands born to the wings

they were trembling over your shoulders

and promised heaven.

Were you beautiful …

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Written by Georgi Tsachev