Cristian Simionescu   |   Poetry
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Who Knocks at the Door at Midnight?

It’s me, the secretary, I record the images of the clouds in every detail
and the whispers of ants. I record all things but I don’t care about anything at all.
I’m a secretary, disinterested, and this noble mission
earns me my living--
food, trousers, tobacco, other such trifles.
I’m much too honest merely to be called honest.

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