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Act of Creation

Every day

I knock at your door

get up,

we’ll put you back together

 

you bind the cells of your body

to the air

 

your breath warms your skin

 

memory

muscle tension from what was lost

presses under the left broken rib

 

now

open your eyes

 

is this the middle of the night

or there, against the grey sky,

does something glow?

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Written by
Agnes-de-Lodz
48 / F / Poland
Published
Apr 29
Lines·Words
15·62
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