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Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
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agonia ![]()
■ Au pied du grand chêne ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
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| [Ce texte devrait être lu en english]
An apology fell
In my right palm like a stone: Because I live, that`s why... She sobbed drunk. A tick dissolves in my left chamber, It`s a snake`s tongue on a circle, subscribed to the ideas of stone. It falls and it rises and it struggles. It puts up my tear in my right eye under the eyelid slow and easy, to keep it there closed and afraid. As a snake calling an Eve to an apple, the tear is allured by a poem listened with the left ear with shots of treatment. and the tear becomes... There, in the poem, time sleeps In the rhymes` embrace like a child in a warm blanket with the lips towards the air. The tear dissolves in a lullaby in a whispered spell from the left ear to the right ear in a mad commutation of senses of apologies of rhythms of sensations. and I am on the hill of hopes by the fountain that waters life with the serum of safety sensations, waiting my turn, for the right to an angel.
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