I kept my life in a small room with pale blue walls and brought it back little presents from the world This is for you I would say This is for you Sometimes the gifts died in my hands and often I could not pay the price of their redemption I could never be sure they were appreciated or how much they wanted to be in the place where I had brought them The room filled with less and less space to breathe so instead of gifts I began to bring stories that did not end but slipped away around corners and over horizons I brought premonitions and resistance to closure and left at the end of each day looking for more |
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