LaBreu Edicions, 2023
68 pages
Poetry
We looked down and everything is urgent
as the degree of inclination, empty railings.
We neared our arms, reclined our bodies,
caught underlying reasons from above.
Everything goes on while someone, invariably one of us,
wakes in the night, invariably on some night;
invariably some telephone: everything goes on while the world
spills into the crack of some soul, invariably.
Ester Andorrà
LaBreu Edicions
info@labreuedicions.com
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