Maria
by Daniela Stephanou
the mind,
with a sink
all soaked
in water color
landscapes
washes,
the familiar
faces
blending now
bouquets of
lost gazes,
drains,
the cliffs
of words
that are
now fading
scribbles,
dries,
the time
in the field
by the river
with a lost
bouquet
and spoken
scribbles,
the mind
that
cleans the dirty
porcelain twice,
and hangs the
plates on the walls
remembers
that-