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Time ago time as a light ocean, full of scale farms and sailboats that swarm without corks.
I see blue where you see green and sadness I am happy, death is the life and life of those who die slowly ... writing insipid verses.
Some time ago it was like a shield of ice, with its cracks and its thrusts stored in heavens, all crammed with cardboard and tears of fire.
I hear noise where soft words are heard, my heart stops when others fall and my eyes fall between my toes, when it dawns.
Such is the box of the horizon that is accused between my broken window, which is the station of the silences that appears.
That is why I would ask you for an intermittent pause, a farewell almost perennial with the smell of dawn.
Distort me with your fury of iridescent tides, and take me to walk with you the paths of the indifferent city.
Because kisses have long since caused me death wounds, and death an ethereal and permanent caress.
Rogervan Rubattino ©
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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...
