miércoles, abril 23, 2008
A poem after a 3 back- to- back 12-hr-shifts (by Sashkka)
The third day... the third day
excised vocal cords
soul without a smile
wingless heart pounding in a thready fashion
among them
faceless eyes
The third day
automated movements
wrinkled soul
hunchbacked
eye sight sitting in the station's bench
eternal contemplation of the so-called tomorrow
looking forward to...the future of the past
the future of the past went missing
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¡conéctate, oso!
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