In Memory of Myself

Simply to have stopped.
As if I could begin
where my voice has stopped, myself
the sound of a word
I cannot speak.
So much silence
to be brought to life
in this pensive flesh, the beating
drums of words
within, so many words
lost in the wide world
within me, and therebt to have known
that in spite of myself
I am here.
As if this were the world.
Paul Auster


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