Escavar,
Escavar sem parar,
Até encontrar o nada,
E nele desenhar o vento,...
Com a terra possivel,
Mascarrar o desejo,
E as pernas,
Com a mãos a servirem de desilusão,...
E que neste poema curto,
Se encontre a liturgia dos esquecidos,
Com muito bálsamo de uma luz coartada
Lindo poema . Me gusto mucho. Te mando un beso.
ResponderEliminarUn beso tanbien
EliminarAnd some call it progress..but this is usually the case. Sometimes, we wake up just to see what we have made a mess of things. Great creativity!
ResponderEliminarThanks:-)
EliminarSo much to think about in this one. It reminds me of a quote of looking at all the things we bought that we don't really need. You always are very thought provoking.
ResponderEliminarI can't see how, but thanks:-)
EliminarLife can be a grind. It can be quite destructive at times and we don't even know it..especially when we just keep going. We are rather impulsive when least expected. Thanks for the poem.
ResponderEliminarthanks for the coment:-)
Eliminar