After a while
I started playing with dolls
I loved their peaceful expression
They all had their places
In a corner Room 135
I would say to myself:
It doesn't matter
that Leonard can't breathe
that he is hopelessly involved
in the panic of the situation
I'd light a cigarrette
and a stick of Nag Champa
Both would burn too fast
in the draft of the ceiling fan
Then I might say
something like:
Thank You
for the terms of my life
which make it so painlessly clear
that I am powerless
to do anything
and I'd watch CNN
the rest of the night
but now
from a completely different
point of view.
Leonard Cohen in Book of Longing
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