In his office
under thin layers of darkness and dust
there’s a tainted vitrine
and in it – Infinitas
Well preserved
Marvelous specimen!

Outside the glass the time is flowing
Outside the glass it’s raining days
Yet he’s not concerned.
He’s sure of himself.
His prescious infinity is locked,
safe and dry
its curves are untainted
its skin is still soft
Carefully gutted
Already cleaned
Filled up with marbles –
polished remnants from all broken promises
shiny leftovers of a life never lived
By a man always busy
Making death look like life


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