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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-05-06 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
The noon day sun breaks the room
little splinters of yesterdays perfection glares across the walls seeing the reflection of the promises of last nights tequila, up turned bottle Hugs the corner pocket of the room. She still snoring mouth gapping like a jug waiting to be filled he looks a while at her perfumed body wondering what the hell had crossed his mind and laid his dreams of the night unraveled Shakes her Awakening the pain that shrivels up her brain. She stretches and yawns her naked form again arousing the untold story that was again the night before He drowns her upon his fumed breath and takes her down memories stroll gathered there the day wears it fragrance where sex sells itself upon the air And dances its weary tune. Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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