Ghosts

The whispering of your footsteps
behind my footprint along the way
reminds me of what has stolen my time.


The time that makes us and
undoes us, that names life,
that places us, condemns us and
provokes us.
That time, that's nothing,
like nothing is the body.
Feelings, perceptions, fallacies
of the reality we are,
unique and universal frayed consciousness.


You are, your transcendence is my life.
...and even if you don't know,
we still live together.

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Ghosts

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