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Exploring the Swirl and Swing of Words As They Meet Plumed Imaginations. An Ode to Self at Night. I lick the stars off my plate. To shadows,their newborn,. The stories of injured walls. The hyms of innocent lambs. A rock fell from my brain. To dimple the crowd of dogs,. We use when our names. With the crypic water waves. In a mixing bowl,. From the red bricks of Babel.
A cena descrita abaixo foi testemunhada pela minha amiga Françoise Terzian, habitué dos coletivos. Eu estava na Rebouças esperando o ônibus pra Consolação e uma menina pergunta ao driver se ele desce a Consolação e ele diz que sim.
Design by X- Love-Des-Chats- X. Avec mon blog tu pourras enfin comprendre leurs attitudes,. Leurs pensées et toutes leurs petites manies, plein de choses. À découvrir sur nos amis.