It does not mean anything.
's a song.
As if that name attached to that face, expresses feelings. But then
.
Then again a name only, without a sound appearance. The
nothing is nothing.
long as it fills.
And everything becomes nothing.
And everything becomes nothing.
"You know what it's like the passing of time, Erika?"
's a song.
As if that name attached to that face, expresses feelings. But then
.
Then again a name only, without a sound appearance. The
nothing is nothing.
long as it fills.
And everything becomes nothing.
And everything becomes nothing.
"You know what it's like the passing of time, Erika?"
An application in a low voice, while you rinse hair and thoughts.
"No!"
A response to loud, to drown the noise of the jet that keeps the soap.
You do not understand why the fuck! Crystallized in your few years you take to equal a lifetime.
You do not understand why the fuck! Crystallized in your few years you take to equal a lifetime.
The Sleeping Beauty in its merdosissimo forest. There was-just as the sun and your father was smiling teeth white and shiny, just-barely illuminated by soft rays fans. Shone every blade of grass, perfect load of a single drop of dew from a specially set divina.Ascoltami hand, listen: it was a poem that morning. The nostrils pinched by a cool water that refreshes as brilliant: a taste of September to swallow satisfied. The rest was ordered. In the perfect picture of perfect family lacked only a caption, the rest no: there was everything else. The machine polished to a car wash, my script to mothers with an apron of fabric softener scented with vanilla, the sound of the door that opens and closes leaving merry-merry-unconscious on the stage of that patch of the garden of our house, independent three sides. Inside, still in suspense, the objects of hello: notes muffled by the walls of a radio playing in the half-empty cups of milky coffee, the aroma of coffee on the windows fogged the mirror with two drops sprayed from the brush. There. From there you should be sparse, the imperfection. Had placed the corner stained, the sink dry patchy halo. Instead. The mistake that fate hath been clinging. It locates the error and bad luck, from that point, it expands like wildfire. As they say. The music has slipped up to me: "All of my city, a desert that I know ..."
And listen to me, Erika! The world stood still as the image block of a video recorder geezer: a line to the center of the screen to shake the frame better. The red folder with the sheep hath been drawn tilted back, too low, even for those who-like you-he was laughing and playing circle, with a father who became t'aveva airplane. A father is still happy, because an ignorant father, moved from laughter the closed eyes, has not seen the sky turn black. Suddenly. I have, I have guardato.E I opened my mouth on that landscape as a disaster: the pieces of the puzzle are falling and everything, everything became clear the dark, the beautiful ugly, the light heavy. While screaming your name and you-down, puppet, my poor puppet-to drool and foam twist in the middle of strong odor of feces and urine. Six dead in that time. We are with you. You went away with the sound of the siren. For you a caricature, a grotesque little girl with broken wrists and eyes looking to the side. A stuffed bear without the padding.
"The time passing this water is going down! "I say not to feel alone.
"Again?" Ask me no sense, a dog licking a guancia.Come.
And I caress you like a puppy.
It does not mean anything.
's a song.
As if that name attached to that face, expresses feelings. But then
.
Then again a name only, without a sound appearance. The
nothing is nothing.
long as it fills.
And everything becomes nothing.
And everything becomes nothing.
It does not mean anything.
's a song.
As if that name attached to that face, expresses feelings. But then
.
Then again a name only, without a sound appearance. The
nothing is nothing.
long as it fills.
And everything becomes nothing.
And everything becomes nothing.
