Of some great affair perhaps
Where gods and men collaborate
Even if no longer married at least
In the old way for survival
But like the moment in the queue
When you look around at your
Fellow beings as if divorced and alone
You see the image of a god in the offing
In a little girl or an old woman
A restless god bustling in the breeze
That ruffles her clothes
Affirming we come back
To our innocence in the end
Having left it at the door
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