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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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What did you leave behind?
I read so much of you that only one verse is still breathing today, one moment. Is this all that your hand can do? Could you call the dreams back As if we never left? Today is only a shadow of literature. Only a memory of the pats and your steps on my heart, my burnt and dry soul, crucified loneliness on an old piano. Today I need to be quiet, to hear the last piece of heaven leaving me. Once upon a time, when the words were walking in strange clothes spreading their musk perfume all around... Once upon a time… Do you remember?
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