Wrong turn yesterday


Again and again calling the same number for years

finally the voice was not familiar anymore

the voice had an accent of madness a special tint of exasperation

.the voice hue was descending in an abysmal phonetic destruction

suddenly the void opened as I was hanging up

and I was falling into emptiness falling into the abyss of hope

and then the shaft of my power animal

extricating me from the net of habit

whatever was playing was a poker game

Floss royale

the number is numb now is another number in the empty I phone

another blissful oblivion

the  shut grave of a long forgotten vampire

walking slowly in the streets of toronto breathing the transformation

ceremonial goodbye five in the morning shedding the ashes of a memory

 

dedicated to Anastasia M.

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