그 속삭임 (The Whisper)

By | 6 August 2011

Rain falls.
I sit at my desk.
The desk quietly says:
Once I was a flower, was a leaf, was a stalk.
I was a long root beneath the ground
that stretched as far as yonder desert oasis

A scrap of iron on the desk says:
I was the uvula of a wolf wailing alone on moonlit nights.

The rain stops.
I go outside.
Thoroughly soaked grass says to me:
Once I was your feelings of joy and sorrow.
I was your lives and your songs.
I was your dreams.

Now I say
to desk
to iron
to earth:
Once I was you, was you, was you.
Now I am you, I am you.

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