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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Cry

@sleepy-inc

• I am not there, I did not die •
Linnea
“In the subway car, a mystery of proximity: a yawn passing from mouth to mouth, across a line of seated strangers, in perfect order. I watched it moving like a secret through a row of children, washing toward me as each person opened their lips to swallow it up and then, in unbroken revolution, give it away. I thought this must be G-d: air moving through human bodies like a soft needle picking up stitches along pale cloth.”

— Sarah Matthes, “Transitory Mitzvah,” via Poetry Daily