The selection.

We came out of the train together.
You held me with a hand naked as my own.
You were married to my life.
When I saw you again,
They've dragged you to the middle of the piazza,
They married you to death.
Title : The death of the brother
I had no hair to pull out.
No clothes to tear off.
But I had a soul:
I cut pieces of it with silent nails.
They were the only flowers I had to put on your body.

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