Parece un híbrido entre fetish y un sistema para adelgazar y eliminar la celulitis tipo los de la Tienda en Casa. Los caminos de erotismo son inescrutables como el resutado de una escapada en la vuelta ciclista.
Pound of flies on glassy panes. Run of green men on their poles. Pool of lean lengths and floating. The train on its rails from there to you past posts of faded grey.
Clung to our web of coming and going.
Each early morning sweep of undone life, divided squares of tidy leaf, reminds that, transparent in second skin, we chime in broken rotating.
Wrapped in this film of tiding and flowing.
And even planes and prayers in daily lift and flight return for yet another turn, fall inevitably to lips, to lights, drop through the billowed heights.
The tourist trail leading nowhere slowly.
Pinned to this, our static ring of keel and rise, we lose tracks, miss a rarely felt welcome. When all was said, all is done, winning is down some other way.
It is nothing new. Despite sweated gain, there is no hello, there are no goodbyes. Every late last encounter is still the same under the editing of your always eyes.
Parece un híbrido entre fetish y un sistema para adelgazar y eliminar la celulitis tipo los de la Tienda en Casa. Los caminos de erotismo son inescrutables como el resutado de una escapada en la vuelta ciclista.
ResponderEliminarAhora entiendo porque mucha gente piensa que es igual de sano hacer ejercicio que verlo desde el sofá.
ResponderEliminarStatic Tour
ResponderEliminarPound of flies on glassy panes.
Run of green men on their poles.
Pool of lean lengths and floating.
The train on its rails from there
to you past posts of faded grey.
Clung to our web of coming and going.
Each early morning sweep of
undone life, divided squares
of tidy leaf, reminds that,
transparent in second skin,
we chime in broken rotating.
Wrapped in this film of tiding and flowing.
And even planes and prayers in
daily lift and flight return
for yet another turn, fall
inevitably to lips,
to lights, drop through the billowed heights.
The tourist trail leading nowhere slowly.
Pinned to this, our static ring
of keel and rise, we lose tracks,
miss a rarely felt welcome.
When all was said, all is done,
winning is down some other way.
It is nothing new. Despite sweated gain,
there is no hello, there are no goodbyes.
Every late last encounter is still the same
under the editing of your always eyes.
S.
"S" ahora tiene un blog:
ResponderEliminarwww.sas.explore-the-world.net