the others, quiet anyway, only
sounds, just sounds.
blank, still, heavy, enemy
Not a colour now,
words melt, burn.
mean words, meaning
Thought leaves no tracks.
Lost in white.
'May be some time.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I like the feeling of disappearance in this, it's a very original poem and a good read.
All the best, Seán
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