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We have no strength to pass the door erect
the door turns to a noose and fastens us
it bends us, twists us and it tightens us
the tongues get swollen and they blacken
the tongues get thick and necktied
the Agnus Dei lolls its tongue at the butcher's (shop)
having bitten through a blue and stiffened muscle
we have no strength to pass the end directly
the end of our/this flesh and its grey sinews
and there's no decapitated breathing left,
and not the meaning of excessive thinking,
and not the one which never gets for real
because there's nothing real at its end
© Maria Virhov
© Maria Koleva, translated from bulgarian
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© E-magazine LiterNet, 02.08.2011, № 8 (141)
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