DRAGONFLY IN MY DAY

Trembling, mirage.
Wait.
Promise.
A mouth to go deep inside the stellar corolla.

Wet.
Quivering.
Released.

On the water of a small stream,
where has a heron passed.

Return to fetal silence.
In the greenery that welcomes, breathes, the caress of dragonflies.

In its wings I have my future day.

Not lived.
Donated.
Gifted.

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