I spent the flight of my days
spying the sea
I love every waving thing
When I smiled
my teeth were mysterious
there are waves in my soul
The edge of my clothes
was salty and fresh
I love every waving thing
Speak to me of my death
so that I feel a reason to remember
Today I'm afraid of having been
Ataraxia-I love every waving thing
Way out of Here, or: do not be afraid of dying, child !
1 comment:
"...there are waves in my soul..."
που αλλοτε θεριευουν κι αλλοτε γαληνευουν.....
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