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Oct 2010
Noises, constant struggle,
Ever ending silence,
Pressure robust, indelicate,
Colors touching my dried tongue

My shoes are now heavy,
Sun became an enemy,
This needling sand,
Burden which directs me

I do not stop upon the tombstones,
But I have read every inscription,
Many times,
Reading until the end

I deceive my sight,
With a mirage of a mirror,
With surface all sweaty,
Undusted, begging filth to disappear

Faithfully, I search for a familiar face,
And doubts are all your freckles,
Chewing on my arms,
Never was there a plan

Step by step,
I am being gradually consumed,
A perfected torture,
Every time and always,
A lesser piece left

Now do I crawl,
Or am I painting circles,
This sullen land,
Once your joy,
Now my lair.
Created 23 October 2010.
Evaldas Eseth
Written by
Evaldas Eseth
796
 
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