So, I was coming clean
Out of the dark
Onto something so simple
Impossible pleas
Deadening mattresses
Below the earth
Forming the curve
Into slumber
So as to forget
The watch of golden eye
This worldly suffering
Empty as oceans
With pages filled
Flesh in chunks
Bleeding waters
This body, this bond
Under thick grayness I lie
Thicker than grass and hay
Transparent, my motion
The emotion, toward
Engraved in marble
Lifeless, in the port
From my entrails, another language
Onto your neck, arose
Fragile the time
In celestial agendas
Decomposing me
Composer, sorcerer
Grammar in movements
Of pupils and palms
Finite as it was
The table, the notebook, the request
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