Friday, 6 March 2015

В кухнята/Kitchen poem

At night dreams merge.

It’s as if there’s something
I can’t avoid – the flight
upwards and outwards
over alps and plains.

In the kitchen,
we’re well met.

In the kitchen,
dreams merge.

This room
is for friends.
The guests
are on the balcony.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips

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