And this Pamela afternoon
Like a sun soft and fresh
Born after a spell of showers...
You me reminds
As if you are there in my mind
Despite me scattering always
Like those leaves blown
By monsoony wind...
And from tea cup
Left at window
Like a smoke swirl
me sees you arrive
Like truth
Undilute...
A Pamela quiet
Madrid smell
Guitar like
You arrive...
And
me sings
Looking
At the sky
Soft,
Moist like
Te quiero desnuda...
A truth like...
Un spaced...
Non timed...
Un located...
Yet
Like a state...
No comments:
Post a Comment