If I detach myself from you, I rip everything but my best (or my worse) you sticks, sticky, like honey, a paste, an oil dense:
return to me when I return to you: (and I find your thumbs and the lungs):
soon landed in Madrid (in the aircraft tail here, selected my countrymen,
business people, and say numbers numbers, while drinking and smoking, excited, laughing
Shake): I still live for you, if still alive:
(Edoardo Sanguineti)
0 comments:
Post a Comment