Curtain
Ah, you are attributing virtues to the wrong things.
The touch and kiss of the past are no more,
The bedroom curtain protects nothing,
Helicopters are not dragonflies,
The lights that trace the sky spew blood.
Why don't you put your shoes?
Why don't you get up and go look
The sinister candlestick of the stars,
The compact fog that hides the truth
And the ruined street, open in pain.
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