Wednesday, February 20, 2019

A SMALL POEM FOR MY FATHER WHILE WAITING FOR A LONG AND EXTENDED CONVERSATION WHICH VERY PROBABLY WILL NEVER TAKE PLACE Comments

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With you I can't talk
about anything
even though my eyes
and my nose be yours
—as they've told me—
or that I have been
your greatest mistake
—so they've suggested—
and that, in a certain way,
it's you, not me, who walks
—which is what I suspect—
when I walk on the street.
...
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Nicolás Suescún
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