27 august 2017
Paper Thin
Tearing up,
the revised versions.
Wall was rising.
Invisible,
like the unconceived
terror.
Half-eaten space,
the man wants to
hide the holiness.
The final leap,
for the hips, the lips
for the dive.
The bloodied
paperweight, which smasthed
the skull of a bald deity.
The arguments, that
kill the path, a
gift of sky.
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Eva T.