Morse, My Deaf Friend [thin, pallid cover...] Poem by Miloš Đurđević

Morse, My Deaf Friend [thin, pallid cover...]



thin, pallid cover wrapped around bare tree branches in this part of
town, over there it seems night is not over, here we are looking at the
dead light of a different sun, empty drawing, washed out contours in
dull air wrapping around the very same, too weak death, and then it
will drop it, touch it

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