We Can Still Say ...
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Images Of Edwards Syndrome
The message
One day I discovered a bonus mauve
over the grave of my grandmother.
By going to touch the flower
kissed me.
I felt the life and death in petals
timid. On my forehead
humidity
warm a smile.
My mouth muttered a prayer.
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My lips were now a rush of memory.
recalled my mouth the first time that yours
ate mine.
Your thirst was so you could not let go of moisture
of my lips. I felt panic prey
suffocated. Still
modesty
burning cheek on my face when
after the first kiss, we hug. Even my body trembles
and your name is a secret
in my throat.
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The first kiss is so simple
The path that leads
the creek, has sung today. It recognizes your fingerprint
carry her to mine. It was a nice time
of marching steps and mouths
cast. The trouble is
that no longer exists and the way
stream was
our shadows.
The image is my memory.
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Images
pales the soul without love,
face up to the color of death in the hollow
eye
a storm portends the end of the world.
not moved
not a leaf of the tree outside my window
. The fury of the time
devastated my dark circles.
did not come.
It's that simple.
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My mother writes lyrics
flowers and I keep
the chest to forget that the distance
puts us snaps.
my mother's letters are scattered throughout
my face and not want to mourn is that is crying
Letters,
what saved.
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