Saturday, April 22, 2006
MIXAGE
Mixophobia
Street
Was walking filled
With phrases
Way made
Among monuments
Of the day
Even pen
Exceeded
Me
Was wonder
Just this rock
But it is just
This rock
Plays
What the day recommends
Blood reiterated
Thinks screens itself
What anxiety
Places doors everywhere
As if
Only exits ever
Kept us
That’s my last nerve hanging on the wall
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