The World Is Not Made of Glass
The world is not made of glass or bone
but it can be broken.
I eat these shards of stone
and unwind the wire that twists round my head
as I add and subtract
all that I know and believe.
I bob and float on an invisible wave.
I call out to phantoms. They talk back,
their voices hoarse and weary.
I evade the fumes of a toxic cloud.
I consider all that I owe.
I make a list of debts I will never repay.
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sostegno di:
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