Minsk
The Time Ek Stasis
Whispered words. These walls breathe the inanity of accusation
and a moment of gifting passes through what once was identity
so that its dispersement surpasses even reciprocity in a movement
beyond truth and falsity while well worn pillars of objectivity
collapse as if blown asunder by the blameless pawns of poets
ecstatically exhuming treasures of forgotten grace.
From Letras Mania