Indiferent museOh , you , indiferent muse ...The grapes have an emotion -Painted using soft spotsWhich were dried with pain.Injection in the raisins.Juice of that lost haha.Burned juiceIn a too suden movementPiece of IFor all of you....What am i doing?Hah ..Intimidated by a sliver of my own statue.
The question Smooch on the strings of the piano in me , the tries i never did. Smooch on me the empty , the everything. The crazyness of the cacophony of pains. It blocks me. I wish i could see myself reflected on your heart once again. Us . Apogee . Subtle . Dizzy.Suddently. The need of the deciphering morfine. But no. You are the question , not the answer.
Toothless The rocker chair has stoped. The leaves fall around it Blocking its delirious iron music . Even the withered roses are consuming themselves , in the water.