10 february 2012
C Major Walking
Without a cry
Without a memory of a perfume
A trail of glass and caresses
leading to the last action
Violent in it's infinite sweetness
Without wings and without wisps
getting lost in the ruined nights
looking for a book
or a drop of dew
in which we can intoxicate our hands
I allow myself to have you
as always on a fragile pavement
Purple ice
Schoolboys Automations
before killing
like a good samaritan
this look
that i should give to you
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