вторник, 30 юни 2015 г.


fill yourself with the embers and the soot
of your words
(yes up to your mouth
up to your nose
up to your eyes. stop looking at
the passing seasons)
then spill it all out
knead the autumn under your hands
make yourself sick with the roasted chestnuts
(with their scent invading the streets  and the sky and the rain
that scent that you love)                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                it’s going to be alright
all that you see
and all that you hear
is just a scallop of all that can be
(and all that you say
all that you say!
is only a passing kiss
onto the bare shoulder of a song
that we all know by heart)

it’s time to revolt against your lines
(break your nose, seal your mouth)
rewrite the borders of your hands
and leap
(promise to leap)

then you may burn again 

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