mort mot juste

agosto 26, 2008

some light verse

he dug the arm of his guitar
into your trembling heart
he packed and left for Sweden,
said: I'm sorry, we must part.

you followed him into the cold
so far from all you knew,
he said he loved you through and through
he'd cast a spell on you.

and in that place of ancient race
entranced in prussian blue
you thought yourself mislead
but found him writing songs in bed.

maria 9:54 AM 2 vociferando estavam

ao rés da fala