When Poetry Becomes the Last Witness
I write,
because if I do not write,
I fear I have never been.
I write,
because my body no longer fits
except on the page.
my poetry is not recited.
it is washed in a basin,
hung to dry in the cold,
and smells of unsaid life.
whoever reads and does not weep,
has not understood.
who closes the book and falls silent,
is my brother.
Copyright © Florin Lacatus | Year Posted 2025
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