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At the heart there is a hollow sun

by which we are constructed and undone


Behind the mirror. Favourite place to hide.

I didn't breathe. They looked so long I died.


What's shown when we unveil, disclose, undress,

is first the promise, then its emptiness


Ghost-face. Not because I turned my head,

but because what looked at me was dead.


— We don't exist — We only dream we’re here

This means we never dieWe disappear


We’d met ‘in previous lives’, he was convinced.

Yeah, I thought. And haven’t spoken since.


All rooms will hide you, if you stand just so.

All ghosts know this. That's really all they know.

Francesca Woodman

Don Paterson

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Chana Bloch and Chana Kronfeld

I, May I Rest in Peace

translated from the Hebrew written by
Yehuda Amichai