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Acrylic on Paper A3 | 2025

They came to perch

on my trembling heart —

feathers made of green dawns,

of rose-dipped sighs,

and ancient breaths still fluttering

beneath black skies.

No cage was drawn,

no outline held them.

Only swirls of becoming,

echoes of homeland

painted by a hand

that just remembered

how to forgive.