Mirror blank
I washed away the daysto find myself. The sunglasses hang againat the coat rack, the cloudswashed out of my duvet. On the brink of an afternoonlay still a residual staining desirethat together with a bundle old sorrow- found in a corner of the room -has gone with the dirt. Now you can see through the windows againand look like they shouldthe week may start again. My shoes are polished,the sparrow ...
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