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Friday, March 30, 2018

towards easter


the boats still drawn up.
slowly sun-glassed vandals nearing.
at five the bells chime,
they toll for you and me.
bloody friday is ahead.
the lambs, they do not know.
the sea does not care,
waves are like half-gods,
for them all belongs
to their orchestra,
they drown the light,
they sacrifice the night.
silence spreads only inside,
not always with a smile.

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