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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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gone are the days when
my heart was like a crowded temple on a Sunday and the new comers were faithfully waiting at the entrance for the temple to expand in order to receive them the resting of many was preventing the returning to the initial state due to the vacancies with names attached behind, an enlarged old mosque with hanging folds of skin from the plenitude of the years passed made my longings burn until one could see my edges blackened nowadays your presence is dressing my empty heart in the middle the compass pointing to my north goes nuts every time I watch the way you surround me a soothing woman with a smile like the blooms on a linden tree infuses herself with my hot blood and the turbulence caused by footsteps dissipates at her brow in a soft rain she welcomes me, pinching my ankles, a subtle way of saying that she is not a dream or a drama in which the main characters remain in a frozen frame deprived of the liberty to choose their own soaring today we are what was missing from yesterday’s painting we are so close that the colors can’t make out the difference between two absences they can only see a big crisscrossed presence, intermingled, embraced I don’t know how but it is the rhyme of our gliding beyond the platforms where trains end up empty beyond the border control where dreams meet reality a gentle summer settles in, over the shadow of the past that wriggles on dry land like a fish in the footprints we leave behind to separate oceans of solitude our closeness is no longer fragile like that chick that’s still learning to fly over the zooming of scopes and the amusement of hunters we are the hawk that glides with its claws dug in the blue flesh of the sky and every rain every rainbow is our stubbornness to live forever do you see that threshold where life divides people like a guillotine to remain close, to be taken for one because we have but one ticket until the time when the Hubble telescope doesn’t have its lenses crossed and it finds emotional intelligence somewhere in the universe and we teach the world that the horizontal is finite and only the vertical is infinite
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