#ilya kaminsky

I must walk on the edge of myself.

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I must walk on the edge of myself.

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I must walk on the edge of myself.

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She spoke the speech of poplar trees—

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but there is joy of shape, there is always more than one silence.

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I want her to imagine our scandalous days in Odessa when we will open a small sweets shop—except for her lovers and

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bless the sky inside his body, the sky my medicine, the sky my country.

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You are alive, I whisper to myself, therefore something in you listens.

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