I have nothing but a sense of freedom,
a spacious heart
and this old poem.
"I travel in a time that has stopped"
Some old clocks are struggling
to save the emotion
of the days
Travel
With thoughts of old torn clothes
With bitter bread and dirty water
And some tired poems
who are looking for a heart to touch
"Where they become cigarettes on morning lips
to give a breath of fresh air
to the one who stayed up all night for a rose….”
Travel
Having within me the memory of the kisses
and a hope...
"What's it like to be loved?"
N.Sigma
photo WikiImages, https://pixabay.com















































