Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

Maria Stepanova No matter how you look The mortal stuff ’s not inside.

No matter how you knock They still won’t give you the keys.

No matter how you love The depth of your tender eyes, The sparrows will still come flying, Peck away what is left of us. I’m the earth, a crossing, compost, A forget-me-not, collarbone. That is not why I know: Nothing Bad will happen to me.----

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