Nothing Exists
E
Eric Cockrell
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nothing exists then
more than this,
and nothing exists
which is less.
the birth of a universe
is not more than
the opening of the
last rose of summer.
and the secret of infinity
is not more than
the smell and the taste
my hand remembers of yours.
a falling star merely the echo
of your footsteps, walking
out my door the last time...
the morning dew just your love juices
left on the long grasses of my longing.
Bu şiiri puanla
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