Salvation

by Christos Polydorou

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What’s wrong with me?

When did
we become our
own therapist?
It is almost
like the most serious
wordplay game
we play
within ourselves
and we think
no one’s looking

But this flesh
we carry is old
And constantly
self-renewing itself
And expanding
populace
by populace

Generation
by generation

Century
by century

What was the void like
before Sigmund Freud?

What that man
did to Dora…

What was the world like
before Nietszche

announced
the death of God?

Were monks
able to fly?

Did nuns skirt
across the sky
like swallows?

I am not religious
but there is something
in me that
flows

and flows

and flows.

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