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POEM: Between Thursday and Friday
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POEM: Between Thursday and Friday

All night I dreamed of the border regions of being. When I awoke, I remembered only something between water and land, silence and speech, sleep and waking, and thought: “Here it is, the esthetics of indeterminacy. And here it is again…”

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I dreamed that he whose footprint had seemingly faded long ago, suddenly appeared and looked at me so attentively that I awoke with a pounding heart…

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