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"Hush, don’t be afraid..."
We are the voices of old loves
not the ones that changed your life
when you suddenly found yourself in other rooms
worshipping other statues.
But those little loves
that for only one second
made you look up high
with heavenly familiarity
while some unruly leafy plant
a giggle, a glance
made you forget the perennial thorns
of cactus time.
Little love of the last minute,
lean on a shoulder fanatically mortal,
lean on the cenotaph of dreams.

Translated by Karen Van Dyck