четвъртък, 2 юли 2015 г.

23.

spinning the rosary of all the beggars
that my quest consists of
(one bead for the unfinished stories
one bead for the spilled words
another for the untied sharing
and then one more for the mad repetition
of verses and touch and caress)
I confess:
it’s time to rend it all
(rip it with my teeth)
and lose it into the rifts of summer
it’s time to grow my hair even longer
(and strangle the bones of past squalor)

after being cruel
(so blatantly unfair)
to all my disposition
the bravest thing to ever utter 
can only be
ego te absolvo (but arranged like this: I forgive
myself)


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