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Mediu
I carved a big hole into my chest
As I intend to set an athanor wicket to it
And since I was so empty
I put my left hand into it out of curiosity
Fumbling to find my soul
Nothing
A reckless thought deserving no recall
Crosses my mind
That acacia told me last night
Not to hollow out its trunk in vain
Since cuckoos might lay
Eggs
In the nests of other birds
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