Each new morning a delicate hour
To gather and release
The birds that bury themselves
in the cold stones
we’ll be home soon
making breakfast
drinking coffee
and heading out to offices
lost in occupations
stalled considerations
of what it would be like
if we never had to die
safe inhabitations
constant renumerations
weighing the cost of value
building homes
each new morning we wake
face the same
un bury the living
promising each other
we’ll be home soon
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had no idea it was the same way on the other side of the world as it is here. :)
ReplyDeletelove it.
These songs are really beautiful! I am inspired...
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