As a runner greyhound in the desert ,I am seeking the towers of oblivion,and I helped me with the wind,to double the echo of infinity.As a lure of stars ,looking imprisoning suns of blue days ,so I met among birches ,sweet , sweet ,and between narrow flakes evenings .And that laugh singing your cries ,and that voice quiet and restless,that reminds me of loneliness,basil and olive groves and meanness .Look around you , everything is full of them ,spurs breeze from sparks,they slip between your legs and hail .And amid this forest of femurs and fibulas ,dour grows a tear between stems,root of sperm and heat waves,litter and icy fainting.Oh sweet, sweet live in a maze!And you leave me alone to possess Ariadna ,to snitch fire your instinct ,and a neglect his desire is enlarged ,and consumes us like beasts without destination.
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The Art of Forgetting
RandomHow to forget someone who has gone , how to forget someone you can not forget , for love or hate, pleasure or disappointment . The art of forgetting gives you the keys to overcoming the sleep of reason , that dream we often produces monsters...