Poetry is a sin which you fold in paper to preserve the beauty of your lover, a transatlantic spell of tulips which still scream love from balcony of the Juliet, a fear of daisies slowly turning into monsters with every passing season of the Shakespeare's sonnets, and the poet takes every chance to breathe written words in dead flowers as if Satan has haunted the idealogy of a sinner. If poetry is a sin, then poets are sinners. #yqbaba #poetry #poem #oddevenpoem
