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I can still smell the soft scent
The burned words
It's stuck in my ear like everything else is...
So I made up my mind

I can't see the full moon today
The clouds killed it
As always, I am sitting at the table alone
The spoon and fork are in place
The napkin hangs from my neck
The soup has already gone cold in the white bowl

You can hear the sound of my heartbeat in the silence
And some noise from the neighbors

Letting exhaustion take over me, I lay on the floor
The scenery I see from here was unexpectedly new to me
So I reach for the dirt

For the first time I became one
I just want to go to sleep

When will wings grow on the moving rice kernel?

My hands are behind me
I search
Why can't I fly?
I search for myself
Why won't anybody tell me?
Why? Why?

With your multiplying selves...

I found the silver knife I was looking for underneath the sofa
I sit back up on the chair and taste the meat
I stuff my face with the rice that is supposed to be tasty
And search for the wings