To the little girl Who gives me a shiny red apple every day. There was once a book unlike any other. A book that flew. It had no wings, no propellers, no hidden mechanism that made it fly. No one knew where it came from,...
Despoina Nassou
I am…
I am the desert and the storm, the scorching sand that seeks a shield, I am the palm tree and the olive tree in the oasis of Siwa, the red dust that spreads at night. I am the moon and the sky and the mud in the well, I am the north, the morning, or the hot south that sighs. I am the...
Despoina Nassou
THE BOOK THAT FLYED
To the little girl Who gives me a shiny red apple every day. There was once a book unlike any other. A book that flew. It had no wings, no propellers, no hidden mechanism that made it fly. No one knew where it came from,...
I am…
I am the desert and the storm, the scorching sand that seeks a shield, I am the palm tree and the olive tree in the oasis of Siwa, the red dust that spreads at night. I am the moon and the sky and the mud in the well, I am the north, the morning, or the hot south that sighs. I am the...


