remember the deed remember A53

A new illness creeps and leaves – a wave that

takes the flesh off my bones and returns it quietly

every few seconds I become anew and

we talk of pasts and strangle landscapes

ignoring changes outside our door


you stay sitting, throwing up old lives as though

nothing will remind you of rings, a move, the day

you created someone real while


I slowly gathered closer, my days reshaping

in my feet. A distraction: I can be there, too.

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

21 responses to “remember the deed remember A53

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