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my wild children
yehuda amichai
my wild children: in the morning
they eat my dreams, at evening
they wolf down my memories.
i am their manger.
i feel their rough tongues
on my soul.
i hear their sweet and empty slurping
day and night.
my wild children, my barracudas
sopping up my madness, 1 my scream.
i dig into them.
i want to light my eyes
from their eyes,
as on a dark nocturnal street
a man asks for a light
for his last cigarette.
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