my two-dimensional world

(3 poems)

there are no needs for talk.

in silence,

I drop thoughts in the dirt,

when the time to harvest comes. 

  

in August,

I  harvest the land

  

… I die

 at the end of each breath,

love from the first sight,

run after the setting sun,

despite

the fear, the prowling darkness

 I  don’t  travel beyond the sunset.

by the sunrise I return back home, 

  

guilty of the sinful thought

finding the edge of the world.

it is flat, where I came from

c:Nina K Orlovskaya 7/5/2012