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EMICRANIA
Oil on acetate paper, 13 x 9 cm
Texts by Lorenza Biasi
Here it comes ...
... gliding over ...
... fling over ...
... it’s landed.
As thuds echoing the
noise of emptiness.
I’m searching for ...
... for sheltering
... for comfort.
Filling up emptiness.
Searching for my swallowed self.
( ... )
A taste of nothing.
A warm taste of nothing.
It’s leaving me
... awaiting.
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