my big sleep, the big gesture 1

the big gesture


when she leaves after telling you there is

no one else and makes passionate love with you just that morning

after, her gestures

of pity

makes me you again


unclean, as you see as him, not me-never me

in your gestures.

Only sleep,

my sleep, the sleep of the dead, can stop these last touches

but never, ever do they




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