Incomplete
As marble is
Before it finds its statue
In the silent whisper of summer nights
When solitude curves its neck
To let forgotten lips
Like petals lost to the north wind
Rest , dance, become a secret garden
Stolen
Like a shape once unknown
Of the color in which I kept
What was for someone else
Returned
As a bottle lost to the sea
With no message
Just memories of a voyage
Made alone
August 20, 2014
© Vahé
A. Kazandjian, 2014
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