These acute memories are probably symptoms of disorder (Saul Bellow)
.
A mess of blues
Lays along me at the end of the night
As a bunch of sheets drowning me into dark
I cannot take it off of my eyes
Even when I open them to dream of idiot’s tomorrow
(C) David Lago-Gonzalez
Gracias, siempre paso a ver la producción, buenísimos poemas.
Publicar un comentario
1 comentario:
Gracias, siempre paso a ver la producción, buenísimos poemas.
Publicar un comentario