Relics of dead music,
here,
inside the eyes…
I, a depth
flattened at the start…
And—through lost spaces—
extraterrestrial gods
monitoring us…
The black lights shed from limbs
and the passionate parable of gazes…
Here, in the scream of the street…
Poem by Vahagn Karakashian
translated by Tatul Sonentz
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