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The night is clear
the stars are gesturing to us
tearing the blanket of the sky
how to undertand that many of them have been dead
for some time
although they still emit some light
like domesticated rock

you’ve grown gills
from the pressure
now you are obliged to learn to swim

we kept the sun for ourselves
we air the white sheets
and we give the show of the shades for free

like wildfires
the lie of the light
created by the rottenness
our miracle

a thousand channels at your disposal that repeated the message
“the shade is the best thing about the sun”

now you ask for some wings
to be able to land

and we have poisoned your herd so that you drink our milk
and we have reaped your wheat crops so that you ask for bread
and we have made education expensive to deal in our ideas
and we have stopped you sleeping so that you follow our dreams

now you ask for some wings

© 1994-2018 Berri Txarrak |

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