
Shattered mirrors
become digital filters
minds that return
to the glorious
days, the rooms filled
in coded landscapes.
Thank you for reading! Please follow to read more poems!
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness

Shattered mirrors
become digital filters
minds that return
to the glorious
days, the rooms filled
in coded landscapes.
Thank you for reading! Please follow to read more poems!
-Alina