Κύματα -Waves

.......

They are constantly born
through volumes 
of fickle water
layers of stone
imaginative 
sand formations.

They come.
They go.

I appeal
I resort
I escape

Only the wind answers 
to their dizzy questions.

Even if they're leaving now
others will definitely come back

pulling our hand from the switch of oblivion
testing meanings
questioning all condescension.

So as the lean ship rages 
the horizon is sliced.

Waves plague our rotten regrets.

Their height depends 
on your mercy.




Dimitra Kotoula