Pity, We Were A Good Invention - Poem by Yehuda Amichai
Your thighs from my waist.
For me they are always
Surgeons. All of them.
They dismantled us
One from another. For me they are engineers.
Pity, We were a good and loving
Invention: an airplane made of man and woman,
Wings and all:
We soared a bit from the earth,
We flew a bit.
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