With Cecilia
http://aglavaine.blogspot.com
Miras Miro! Tormented by the sun, burns woman flamenco poems that glide like a dish on his skin red. The sky is high! The sparks glowing words that escape demonic licking her skirt ruffles of silk and then inflated wind, like black flakes come to die by stabbing the arm of a tanned older gentleman who said: "I want a drink !
Vertigo! Half a page to the glass and charred fleet drown. The man dipped his lips into the sangria and fishing are disappointed that remains of poetry. Leftover wine lees then unveil it to him to Neruda: "I want to do with you what spring does with cherry trees, and despite falters and turns into inferno : Flamenco woman smiled at her summer. Green stem! The hoary old man trembling at least he would be able to once again embrace the sap rose and caress the white flower of sin but the page has burned his skin like parchment marked with a hot iron while it was. Calcined.
0 comments:
Post a Comment