let me tell you the secrets of my day, the whispers of warmthwho greeted me in the morning,who returned only when the nighthad swallowed the sun. in the spacesleftbetween them, my day lay, and stretched hercat-like selfacross every hour, minute, and second,grazing on the clock-handsI fed her. quietly,when no-one waslistening, I stole them, to endContinue reading “On Rest”
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