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at night
    with the full moon of contradictions
        shining on the dome of your mind

you are thinking of changing roles
    of finally taking the mask of grief off

        enchanted by the possibilities of your feelings you wrote:

only love as passion has meaning
every profound spirit needs a mask
– thus the subtlety of its embarrassment demands

    under this predictable sky
        you want to think
    that the avenue stretching at your feet
ends somewhere –
    to a final resolution of the matter
        to a synopsis that will allow you to stand in awe of
the predestined unfolding of the story

    your story –

in whose dramatic episodes
    you seek to recognize the beckoning of affirmation
        the assurance of reward

the light is glaring
“the light is always glaring”

it is late though
to leaf through the moment         (life is not an argument)

no one feels like reading any more
neither do you                    (let the texts speak)
who exhausted by the intensity
of the last hours
pick up the phone

“a double espresso”

(as always the best sleeping pill)