Poem: “Paragraph”

If it is not the lone worm
It will be the research
to make me hungry
in the chest of overabundance
I will distinguish neither flies nor honey
under a warm hug of moths
You will make the bed again
with English rhymes
above your hairy slope
of new hopes

Now we are on a journey
in the paragraph of existence

And if not the power of the earth
my dying ego
will be my parachute

 

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