seven
do not speak to us
of history
in this place
do not speak to us
at all.
seven
pilgrimages
in seven years
& already i wonder
if this journey is my journey
at all.
***
the city walls
pulse with a language
understood only
by those
who have just been born
& those about to die.
the city gate opens,
i close my hand
over my mouth
one last time.
of history
in this place
do not speak to us
at all.
seven
pilgrimages
in seven years
& already i wonder
if this journey is my journey
at all.
***
the city walls
pulse with a language
understood only
by those
who have just been born
& those about to die.
the city gate opens,
i close my hand
over my mouth
one last time.
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