On the other side of a mirror there's an inverse world,
   
where the insane go sane; where bones climb out of the

earth and recede to the first slime of love. 

   And in the evening the sun is just rising. 

   Lovers cry because they are a day younger, and soon
   
childhood robs them of their pleasure. 

   In such a world there is much sadness which, of course, is joy. 




Antimatter.
Russell Edson, © 1994.
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