The world is eaten away on my lips (Nafaka)
Through the cracks of speech
I’ll shoot at the sky
Some limits can take some rest beyond
I’ll sheaf my hair
I’ll cross my arms
And whisper
Here I am
MOJE USNE RASTACU SVIJET
U PUKOTINAMA GOVORA
PROSTRIJELICU NEBO
DA SE NA NJEMU ODMORE GRANICE
KOSU VEZACU U SNOPOVE
RUKE PREKRSITI
I SAPUTATI
TU SAM
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
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