for a short time, the world was just

fingers must not stop

their stubborn work of getting rid

of layers – if I am

not peeling anything off

surfaces, I am not satisfied

the white blood of the potato

in my fingers’ ridges

should remind me of

survival, that it might seem

worth it for a short time

I walk past a demo

and feel so ashamed

of being lovesick

there are things

more important

than feelings

but if it weren’t for

feelings, those things

wouldn’t be important

would they

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