Triumph

by Christos Polydorou

There are moments in which I feel the triumph of life, ie, the centuries life journeyed to bring us here, today, looking at each other’s words from across the world, and then others I just would like a bit of privacy.
We wish to be ourselves, but this is not one person, but a hotel of dwellers, some of whom come and go, and are replaced.
Welcome to your body.
It is quite possibly haunted.
Salutations to the mind.
Be kind to it.
Elasticity of the self.
Rubberband boy and girl.
Plurality for the mouthpiece.
For good spirits only, please.

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