my feet and hands are sobre
when i drown in west-to-paris suburb
i find no other
but cotton leather and straza
but you walk in their gloss
reflective and contemplative at your most personal loss
you mention latter
that opinion dont matter
you are ignorant to conflicts of words
but senses are fine for you...
i always knew that
le vin rouge meets you with buddha.
sans titre
© Copyright: Сильви Вархола, 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106100501301
Свидетельство о публикации №106100501301
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