GRAVITY
Sometimes,
even this afternoon,
gravity –
what else could it be? –
pulls me up close and calls me
as if I were its slave
holds me tightly in its fist
not to be scattered in nothingness.
The bones can’t take it anymore,
it plays with them in vain,
they weaken under the flesh,
and the flesh is weakened as the hearing is,
that is also getting weaker.
I
I will persist as long as I can
and I will give myself to its will.

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