Interlude (31)

I pluck flowers from that painting every time
emptiness shapes itself into a room, into a bed,

into a voice. I hide them…

A poem from April 2019 that I have included as Part 39.1 in the series: A story in many unequal parts, some missing. Perhaps inspired by Vincent van Gogh’s ‘Almond Blossom’. Read the whole poem here.


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