interstitial

it was an ordinary night I was thinking about the difference between
spirit and matter about the interstellar clouds about the fact
that water cannot exist without fire or fire without water
about the crystalline structure of the rocks and the interstices in my kidneys
the pain glided on my back spine I thought that I was fortunate
to be still a sparkle on the windswept corridor
in a world bluntly beautiful where the spring comes
with its sweet and sour taste of wax cherries orchard

I have a perfectly round wound in the palm of my left hand
just wide enough for the sun to fit inside
and if I clasp my fist it starts to rain

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Categories: My poems in 2016 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

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