Thursday, September 23, 2010

Fake St London Ontario

Dianonimo Peranonimo



of me I saw the tears lost
dusk, the sun just risen

I heard myself say:

If I look at this sheet,
what love is? They were made of water

it is only salt.

A breeze, just a breath
and also flies away, the sheet back
clear
but loses a poem.

Spend
songs remains the chorus, sometimes
back from oblivion
not even that.

But a sound was left,
alone senz'ascolto,
buried in silence
lost his face.

picked up the position on that note

her womb and gave me a song of love
more sincere.

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