on you I pour the inkI anchor the truce
but the war is lost:
pride and deficiency
our losses are conjugated like
a dead tense of language
on you I pour the ink
of my life
but it rubs out
and disappear my atoms
crushed by your weary splendor
on you I pour the ink
of my dreams and nightmares
but forget it!
you walked on them
now they are dying, so am I
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