A man hanged himself in the flat in front of mine
and so we do not speak of the rope in the hanged man's house.
Two legs are swinging in the air.
I opened my wardrobe and a bird flew out...
A woman is recollecting his clothes.
She is folding all the lost possibilities
that had never turned out well.
Many moths and butterflies have flown out
white as the sheets and light as the words,
words which were never pronounced.
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