In
the spirit world
backlit
by old stars
dreams
sound like
water
falling
we
are inside
and
outside
at
the same time
trays
clack like old bones
as
faces rise from wet paper
their
deep cloudy eyes
and
conquered mouths
appear
between our hands
lips
and chins a blurry landscape
touched
with the faint light
of
a slow exposure
switch
off the red
and
exhale
we
stand on
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