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 THE INTIMACY OF STRANGERS

belashakty
I AM

what I have never been,
and a quarter of what I was
supposed to Be
through me Die,
just to be Re-born
again

vibrations of later times!

I am an album
in which
a dead PRIMA-DONNA

Gave me

a Postum symphony

The fountains of my scribbles
hold nothing but stale water
For the thirsty ones
with ancient memories

for they are the Ones,

Not me.


Bela

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