12 January 2013
What if all we are
Is the combination
Of all we have seen
And all our hands
have ever closed upon?
We are the ticket stubs
And lucky coins,
the falling stars
And the sound
A voice makes
As its song comes
To a haunting close
In a crowded hall.
The weathered rocks
In dark pockets and
The torn fragments
Of our favorite books.
We are the pieces
Of all we have ever found
Glued right inside us
Shining out.
what if.. • Opuss № I