The World of Our Making
written by: Gabriela M
@shortprose1
on the last Saturday of every month
I see the little girl
who lives inside the world of withered roses and of plasticine
the world of our making cries
delusional
a window thinks it is alive and tries to dance
and in the world of withered roses and of plasticine
where ravens talk
pianos have shut up
I see the little girl
her dress, pale pink
her eyes, mad blue
on her cheeks two tears pantomime a waltz
and on the last Saturday of every month
from the world of our making
the world of withered roses and of plasticine
I send to you my love
a kiss and a forgotten dream
both gloved
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