Journey to the Intimate "

 ... I rode the steed of thought,
 went through long tunnels of memory,
 pretending to know me again ...
 ......
 - There were olive trees, ancient temples,
 gutted by relentless time.
 They looked like ghosts, resistant
 where I gathered the moss of my inner past.
 D'lush paths walked past,
 fruity myrtle, flowering rosemary.
 There was also a pungent odor,
 intoxicating, the mimosa jasmine flower.

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