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Day 22:
From this day forth, you tun into the dreamer
of everything: the world within your hand.


Day 23:
I'm not a car, I'm a person,
A man-god, a god-man
Whose days are numbered. Hallelujah


Day 24:
Whatever I scream or say or whisper is only
to console myself


Day 25:
I have gathered many consolations in my life
and squandered them, many sorrows
that I spilled in vain.


Day 26:
You didn't eat, weren't filled. You spoke big words
with a small mouth. Your heart will never learn to judge distances.


Day 27:
The scent of her drying hair is
prophesying in the streets and among stars.


Day 28:
These are the last days of books.
Next come the last days of words. Some day
you will understand.


Day 29:
Loving each other began this way: threading
loneliness into loneliness
patiently, our hands trembling and precise.


Day 30:
Later they'll jump down again
to the sound of applause and wars.


Day 31:
They are all dice
that landed on the lucky side.
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