ESTO ES POESIA. (this is poetry)
jueves, 28 de mayo de 2009
in the beginning it was us (part one)
i open my mouth and the phone rings, it’s my mother, she expects an answer, or perhaps a different question. the wind and the trees are friends, just as the window begins to break, no leaf can justify the existence of music. if it was up to us, where do you think god would hide? behind skin, behind love? i have not come to wander in the sun, everything i’ve ever owned is lined up on the street, empty, every person i’ve ever loved is covered in red dust and sweating sulfur. his winter still brings, your laughter is still, lonely. and it doesn’t matter that we live for no other reason than to share. if all else fails, the madness of this world will be my shelter. living is shit, we the flies linger, for as long as it takes, to become alchemists.