domenica 3 aprile 2011


ILLNESS
Illness is a suspension of life
nothing to think about
in this spiral of time
pace after pace you go on
and hope you will find
air to breathe out of this muddy ground
plastic smell intoxicates you
while you’re into this amniotic liquid
objects you touch rebel against you
they speak other languages
even your CDs sing their song
but not for you
illness is a suspension of life
you wait for air to breathe
and a smile to smile
even your calligraphy changes
becomes harder and stronger
your ems are heavier and more stupid than ever
and your os don’t contain worlds anymore
illness is a suspension of life.
Poem by Ipazia

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