All these accidents that happen, follow the dot, coincidence makes sense only with you, you don't have to speak, I feel emotional landscapes, they puzzle me, then the riddle gets solved and you push me up to this state of emergency, how beautiful to be, state of emergency is where I want to be.

viernes, 31 de agosto de 2007

Rugir

Rugir de tristeza.

Amanecer a palos.

Los huesos hechos polvo, la flor marchita.

La odisea de trasladar el cuerpo adonde sea.

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