Behind the pen I can use words as cover for identity. I can tell you everything and release it all without knowing wether it happened or not. And maybe you don't know either.
And the words will become white birds that fly away with the pain. If you look closely you can see them in the clear sky.
And on the other side of pen there will be new flowers. Big and green. It will sing out stories to be told. Old stories with a happy distance and clear perspectives.
And the flowers will dance as it sings.
/Magdalena Chandrakaí (2013)
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