ΜAs I think about growing up, I reflect on how I became the person I am.
The answer, of course, was not far, only three hundred and eighty seven kilometers. My collection "Remvi" was written to share the experiences that Lefkada taught me, whatever they were: from the first birthday to mourning. With every laugh, step, goodbye, "I miss you", "I love you", I filled my hands with the ink of each word without knowing what I would do, what would become of the paper.
I wrote these poems because without them I don't exist either.
When it dawns
The poets return to the garden,
in their statues
Poets die
until the evening
who will continue their walk.
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