crazy people are everywhere.
I might be one of them,
but I bet you are too.

Monday, November 8, 2010

For all his Great Expectations

Forgotten house,
of lightened street
under which
I place my head,
Have my secrets.
In the secrets of every place
I see him,
uncertain intervals.
Intimate, curious place.
I have been discussing
that inexplicable feeling,
dazed, as if in lightning
we fell into parts.
Lay until returning pains disposed,
he held my heart.