Dried Ocean

I become absent minded of the speed 

Creeping on the clouds 

They pour on my dome, only to dilate 

Central station taught me not to cooperate with plain oceans 

Highway tolls speak otherwise 

Only to shower upon familiar chords 

To whirl once again; falling silent once more 

It is communicated 

- silence

This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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