maladie

We are the made flesh
the essence
the encysted.

Time is eaten
by the time

illusion is cut glass;

shattering old hands
carrying older shames.

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About Benjamin Norris

Published writer of short stories, long stories, poems. Well received art critic and cultural commentator for Berlin magazines. Collaborator with operatic societies. Co-writer of fictional historic psycholinguistic journals. Lecturer of architecture and art history at a Budapest University. View all posts by Benjamin Norris

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