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on the vanity of traveling

after long travels facing

black letters on the wall white the wall behind the letters colorless the empty all around

reading my way through the book book of changing blue and cloudy

sky cover to cover

its pages translucent kites afloat in mid-air with a whirr playing with hiddden voices in the wind

the many journies through nowherelands have made of me a ghost here to reread again rewrite again the page one enters and leaves leaving no trace behind

in waves cicada screeches rise fall meander through shadows of palm fronds lingering in the morning on freshly cut grass


ubud, bali, august 2021

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