MARIO BENEDETTI
A hope a garden a wilderness
a scrap between two
hunger love is a minefield
blood jubilee cup and moss / cross and sesame
poor hinge between
voracious love is a dream to open a center
a few branches around the edge of nowhere
bonfire will be ash love is a word a bit of utopia
is all that and much less
and more / is an island
a storm / synthesizing a lake I'd still
that love is an artichoke
that is losing its enigmas
until there is an anxiety
hope a ghost.
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