Trafika Europe 11 - Swiss Delights

Leta SemaDeni

In front of the cart the horse whinnies at the mossy cliffs and the woman transformed roams the forests as a hungry fox

Flocks of things unsaid fly from the creases in the roof

Sparrow gravel showers onto the masonry falls on knots of razor-sharp grass The eyes get used to the expanses And the beauty grows and grows unto death

Never follow the traces!

But sometimes say something To keep from going astray


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