1355
17.ix.23
4.261
art of edge
place only met
in the dream
where we have
ever been
faces and some
facelessly
and where the
names are gone
you recognize
a certain street
this is where
you’re always born
the park below
those steps up
till
and sometimes on
the river
sometimes in a
cloud
here by midst
or merely
a mission lost
to detail
these few
chords
a colour slept
time is only
vanished there
the others now
surmise
it’s just an
everyday
thing to
forget
each equally a
self
invisible to
daylight
dreamt!
no otherwise
to them
no word to any
yet
but sing
become
insensible
I grow all of these
ruins myself
a great thing
where we guess to be
big dewfall
while
and here we
are among the stars –
a gift to keep giving like this
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