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I Stay, I Go


30th July 2002

11:21am: Stay together, friends.
Don't scatter and sleep.

Our friendship is made
of being awake.


His name is Lucien. Pronounced Looshen. My mouth wants to say it repeatedly. Lucien Lucien Lucien. My mouth curls as if to kiss the world, the word, the man, the memory.

A Lion. He came, he stunned, he recited poetry and drenched my parched soul, he slept, weary from his travels. He has travelled far & wide. Inside & out.

He gave me his book:

The Sad Cliffs of Light- poems through Lucien Zell.

There is a reason...
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