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incision
poetry [ ]
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by aleksandar stoicovici [aleksandar ]
2010-01-04
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 This text is a follow-up |
I open my eyes
white blankets crowd over your hand. I tear the bed-sheet
atria and ventricles in which we confess.
it's almost morning
/
while you sleep
I peer into your womb I feel it
I close my nose to it and smell it
as to know where to come back
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