There are illnesses worse than any sickness;
Jealousy perhaps.
There are pains that don't ache,
Nor even in the soul,
And yet they're more painful than those that do.
There are anxieties from dreams that are more
Real than the ones life brings;
There are sensations felt only by imagining them,
That are more ours than our very own life.
There are countless things that exist
Without existing, that lastingly exist
And lastingly are ours, they're us...
Over the muddy green of the wide river
The white circumflexes of the seagulls...
Over my soul the useless flutter
Of what never was nor could be,
And it's everything.
Give me more wine, because life is...
Happy day.
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