"words are poisoned darts of pleasure" FF

quinta-feira, 11 de dezembro de 2008

Lunch

Something in the pea and ham
soup got her thinking about floaty
dresses and warm afternoons.

(or maybe it was just anxiety
finally sneaking out of her
hermetically sealed chest)

She took off the lid
anyway, and nearly
threw up her own heart.

2 comentários:

Nóia disse...

Então...

Nem tenho nada de novo a acrescentar ao falar dos seus textos/poemas.

Linda a metáfora que termina o poema.





Fiorentinos 2009?

=]

Miguel Del Castillo disse...

esse é muito O favorito.