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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-08-29 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
phalanges hunt
through my abandoned body I will go I hunt in tiny phalanges for you I turn into darkness painlessly up to here the worms crowd their dance in the memory loneliness walks through my angel no answer the mountain comes down through my veins in a fake udder consciousness breaks the bread over the cardboard there is war everywhere the churchbells ring in the void in the sleep like a sinister head with millions of eyelids I refuse serenity one more year with my forefinger in a resignation cry the wall is an excuse for the righteous peace belongs to those who forgive I must be the first to arrive there in the tongue’s split the night seethes the apple of the eye the sorrow of knowinng you are happy is enough for me in the narrow smell of silence I will feed the birds with a lunatic’s fate up to here up to here the temples crumble out of to much love in the abandoned body there is room enough for everyone.
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