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Leaving Lipiu behind
I understood that I had lost my orientation
towards something with real smell
towards the wrist's tender skin with the lovely pulse.
I took a walk around myself
and though heading for the boat
ended up in front of a store all shut up.
Behind the windowpane black with dust
a tragic jacket stood, no one
would ever want its warmth.
The sun had set
and all the streets began
to howl in unison. "No thoroughfare."
I left. Cupping my hands
as though holding the final breath
of a frozen bird,
I protected the final handshake.

Translated by Karen Van Dyck