Treasure Island

Cristian Carcu


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(Sic!)

There's a night shift under my pillow,
And the foggy broken clock is ticking.
Green and twisted arrows
Are the remains of my thoughts.
Me, standing apart, in the middle of this nowhere
white,
I'm having dinner with all my days and fears.
But the night shift under my soul is on strike.
Would it be the light of mind?

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