| 11:24p |
šī diena
Who shows a child the way things really are? Who
places it in the constellation and gives it the
measuring rod of distance? Who makes
a child’s death out of grey bread that has become hard, –
or leaves it there in its round mouth like the core of a sweet apple? …
Murderers are easy to understand. But this: death, death
in its entirety, still before life’s start, to hold it so gently
and feel no anger: that cannot be described. |