One day I wrote that there are no stories ,
only sketched unrealistic attempts to make them so.
was the day I realized how much could cost me feel this way.
only sketched unrealistic attempts to make them so.
was the day I realized how much could cost me feel this way.
***
silently accepted by the Earthly Mother
f ogli autumn strip off their clothes their branches, slipping
inert on the air moist.
Voices dispersed infiltrate from parallel worlds utopias disillusioned ,
that the season has off.
soft lights, muster, draw shadows ,
faithful companions. Of
travel , false starts and returns .
Whirlpools snakes and sacrilegious rites welcome the new Winter .
Return to the naked Earth, carried away by the wind .
f ogli autumn strip off their clothes their branches, slipping
inert on the air moist.
Voices dispersed infiltrate from parallel worlds utopias disillusioned ,
that the season has off.
soft lights, muster, draw shadows ,
faithful companions. Of
travel , false starts and returns .
Whirlpools snakes and sacrilegious rites welcome the new Winter .
Return to the naked Earth, carried away by the wind .
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