Doorway at night, in an anguished dream, when the heartbeat beat a small hour with the strength of a blacksmith and the skill of a goldsmith, I searched for an exit from that reverie, a missing bar, a rusty padlock, a lover’s loop, until I met the mirror, and I swear he said, you are the doorway.
#poetry #micropoetry #dreamwriting #surrealpoetry
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Goodnight, writers. Sometimes the story continues in dreams.
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Not a fairytale.
Just a dream — silk, jasmine, a glance on a flying carpet.
She didn’t stay.
But she never quite left.
«Во сне: Жасмин» — a poem from a night that didn’t need to happen to remain.
open.substack.com/pub/pkahl/p/...
#poetry #dreamwriting #quietdesire
#поэзия #присутствие #нежность
The lady left alone scarcely had strength to risk any damage, for its power over the mind. She did not know the answer. To escape the evil bygone cult whose startling traces had already passed, was her only desire.
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#aiart #midjourney
