mort mot juste

fevereiro 11, 2008

stay

every winter you have hated
all the times you left your body
and when a white ghost broke your bones

i was standing in the mowed lawn
looking at the piece of sky
that i am sure you would have bought me
as a birthday present...
and everytime i blew my candles
i was wishing you would stay.



[mais um poema antigo. agosto de 2006. não estava no arquivo ainda.]

maria 12:43 AM 0 vociferando estavam



ao rés da fala