GENERATION Comments

Childish hunting of witches.
As every night we all stand
under a shower of quartz - half naked, young,
almost satisfied,
still steaming with the remains of dreams:
those, woken from war, smell of sour earth;
those from the swing of love have the flush of trembling hands;
limp and limpid - those who tasted death…
You can recognise them, but of what to accuse them,
when the finger of time points constantly
to standards -
white standards
repeat: no guilty, no guilty…
...
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