miércoles, 9 de noviembre de 2011

6:00 am. Water syndrom.



Soft days have found us.
Wilderness is just
a green light in the morning
when night is over
and falling rain begins to bother me.
I would like to know
how to stop riding the slow grey cow
without eating its liver.
My moral crumble down the stairs
Blood is running out of me.
leaving my wet bones.
The cow keeps chewing on.


Save me softly & purple with your crude fingers.
Rape me, my sweetiest friend.

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