William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings


As mirrors, we serve as invitations to the depth we contain.

To observe completely, the observer must be absent. But not nonexistent. Let him be outside, admiring the flowers. Better yet, let him be the flowers.

She was a snowstorm. He was a pair of little bare feet. They met in the street.

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Categories: Everything and Nothing, New Poems & Pieces

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