My Library of Babel
 
Experiences burrow in my brain,
until some trigger or demiurge
summons them from their grave.
For the rest, I cannot find the key
to locked memories, wandering Borges’ library
in Babel, through its jumbled order
and incoherencies all indefinite and infinite
galleries, signs and symbols,  indecipherable,
corridors chaotic, language unknown,
and I am one of those librarians,
searching for my way. 

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