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.

martes, 8 de abril de 2008

Lunes

Fui páramo.
Fui trompeta.

Yo era y ahora no.

Ahora separo la basura en potes de tres colores.

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