crumpling the carbon paper


Sande Stojčevski
I was ready to sail off
on a large chunk of air
to become a permanent resident
of cheerful oakwoods,
how and again to swing
above the world
like an unborn year,
to be the wind,
transgressing the line
and crumpling the carbon paper.

But too many undesirables
have I chosen for enemies.

Photo by Hugo Kerr on Unsplash

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