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Poetry and whatnot

5 years ago. February 6, 2020 at 11:51 PM

There are cemeteries that are lonely,

graves full of bones that do not make a sound,

the heart moving through a tunnel,

in it darkness, darkness, darkness,

like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,

as though we were drowning inside our hearts,

as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.

Pablo Neruda

CrimsonRose - Thank you for sharing. Blessings, TX
5 years ago

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