From the Book
"God, I Am Here" by Vagif Samadoghlu


We met.
We drank.
We ate some of what was on the table
And some of what was in our memories.

Sometimes we stretched out
Our hands to the future.
Bread was old,
Memories bitter,
And the future turned out to be false.

We woke up.
We parted from each other.



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