In the garden the greenbowl filled with petals of the rose. The white lily lets itself fall, bruised by the touch of my fingers. Silent confessions rise into the air, whispered and forgotten beneath the leaves.
- Halina Poświatowska
In the garden the greenbowl filled with petals of the rose. The white lily lets itself fall, bruised by the touch of my fingers. Silent confessions rise into the air, whispered and forgotten beneath the leaves.