Poem: “Whirl”

a load of life scorched like a wick
has been dispersed into my memory
I thought You’d been shaken 
at least by the smoke
but You didn’t even turn your eyes on me
and today I have an ocean of ice
between my lungs and my hands
You’ll never swim in it again
I’ll be putting back the latch of my soul
on the poolside, It was yours!
The unknown won’t be moved by us

You’ve been a wirl of poems
I’ve never transcribed 
so, at last
I got a fist between my hands
an army of flies

The snow is going to fall, scattered
on the most compact oblivion
I will stand up
locked in my philosophy. 



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