Tags: poetry
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You tell me what pain I live with, that I dream your embrace at night, the engulf that wraps and gives breath.
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Then comes a sudden glow, and I recognize in a thousand the blindness that is made of light. In the midst of many I saw the Samurai and with acute pain I understood the meaning of the word impossible.
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In the thriving sea I go, and my heart is forgotten at times, because nothing is clear and high the waves and high the abyss while the water crashes on the wooden axes that support me. I went out exhausted, it's hot, it's late, I'm without a bicycle, I don't take the tram, walk that's good for me...
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poetry In the time of a year to reach a turn of the road, change the orientation of the step, the rhythm, the sound, which becomes ovate in the high grass, welcomed and supported by the soft ground, and receive the impulse to jump. A graceful leap, lifted by silk wings and swirls of origami, in a white linen dress...
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Poetry for a man who escapes Because I don't see that thin hand slowly opens up cauta approaches my face and slowly gets concave to take its forms; instead all my life taking light poses and welcomes my cheek, and reopens spaceless of teche my are already bright skies. Have courage.
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Poem of lost love I could also return. There is nothing to establishcertodefinite in my life,nothing that can not changebetter,define,design again. I live my contradictions in the full awareness that I am, I must face them, to me I answer. because being an independent woman does not mean having a job and keeping with thatand paying bills. I am independent woman of head,free in thoughts,that...
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(...) I came from afarIn search of a place to die. That land welcomed me, nourished me and dissected, fed me, of my filted paws, of my sharp teeth,he heard my scream with me he blew to the moon. But yours is the territory of my raids. I leave your beautiful queen, cold and altered, which...
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Yours is the territory of my raids. But I died, thirsty, hungry, unpublished, and you were far away, young and far away the land seemed abandoned. I'm wild, not regal, I'm powerful and violent, my mantle has obvious scars, traces of victorious struggles and losers. I don't have your skin smooth, your quiet, clean heart, your hands...
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Poetry for the other woman Yours was the territory where I made my bandits. Offesa raised the head from the top of the hill you saw the scempio that I had done in the joy of having found fresh lashes under my paws, green grass, and water and leafy trees. Silent and altered you...
