Wednesday, August 26, 2020

I'm slipping





.

I'm slipping.  I'm slipping away
like sand

slipping through fingers.  All
my cells

are open, and all
so thirsty.  I ache and swell

in a hundred places, but mostly
in the middle of my heart.

I want to die.  Leave me alone.
I free I  am almost there -

where the great terror
can dismember me.




~ Rainer Maria Rilke
from The Book of Hours


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