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On Wet Feet

on wet feet
from the spilled
water of a
broken hose
you begin
to write on
a theme

something that
makes you shiver
something which
you once remember
as something
chilling, the one
which freezes you
one dark night
because of fear
the one which
made you
tremble because
it was so dark
and cold and
you do not know
where to go
what to do
and you hear
your friend
shouting for
help in that
deep forest

and then the
silence and since
then you do not
know the function
of ears and
fingers and hands
and feet

since then
you have forgotten
to run away and
to listen and
to touch

since then
you do not anymore
remember how
it was to be
really alive

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