Laying on the sofa,
one hour to midnight,
ill, you think it might help
if you would vomit,
that pre-taste of bile
at the back of your throat,
but simple solutions
rarely work, so that
the troubles would be swept
aside with one long kneeling
beside the toilet seat.
But you remember, vaguely,
when it worked, or seemed,
those past illnesses
long decades ago when
you were taken cared of,
were healed,
and never repaid it
and then they died.
06.09.2025
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