jueves, 15 de abril de 2010

To O.

I raised both arms, holding
at your sky's grip.

At the lament.
Silver lament.

Love amidst us, ties a knot in aquamarine sunrise.

You gave out your black chords. The divine lets itself flow in a curvy shape.
Spare out the even.

Handle the tool so I can carve even deeper.

1 comentarios:

Anónimo dijo...

The divine lets itself flow in a curvy shape.
Spare out the even.
me gusta :D

aquamarine sunrise, soy yo o esta frase ya la habías usado?
de ser así, que chiva como entrelazar las historias/entradas :D