viernes, 5 de agosto de 2011

after the storm

catching the last
the rays of the sun,
in the corner
of the old plaza.

Transit through thy truth,
my truths ...
memory verses
collected in the virtual box.

Among the pieces
shed by the fingers,
the old pianist ...
that proud and street !!...

I find myself brewing
these other verses,
browsing your truths
regretting my mistakes.

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