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GaPi

Sightless Soul

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There are cemeteries
that are lonely,
Graves full of bones
that do not make a sound,
The heart moving
through a tunnel,
In it darkness,
darkness, darkness,
Like a shipwreck
we die going into ourselves,
As though we were
drowning inside our hearts,
As though we lived falling
out of the skin into the soul.
Coming out from bells
somewhere, from
graves somewhere,
Growing in the damp
air like tears of rain.