I slept nearly twenty hours
after getting back home
from the medical centre,
one cavity filled,
one tube filled with blood,
and it hardly seems
twenty hours had passed
wasted between laying down
and getting up,
the same dim light
beyond the windows,
same birdsong
penetrating the old walls,
but there lingered
vague memories
of a dream with dead pets
returned, one after another,
from landscape of loss,
and dead human beings
ever-present, never gone,
in that dream, now reduced
to few images fleeing
as I write and an ache
that remains stronger
than these words
that capture so little.
13.05.2026
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