I'm not a fool, I knew from the beginning
what couldn't happen. What couldn't happen
didn't. The enterprise is abandoned.
But half our life is
dreams, delirium, everything that underlies
that feeds
that keeps alive the illusion of sanity, semi-
sanity, we allow
others to see. The half of me that feeds the rest
is in mourning. Mourns. Each time we must
mourn, we fear this is the final mourning, this time
mourning never will lift.
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