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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-01-10 | [This text should be read in romana] |
Vorbele atarna
ca rufele scrobite albite aspre, vorbele acestea ma sufoca, sunt zdrentuite de plimbari printre stele pasi pe luna vorbe intoxicate cu nori laptosi Banuiala mea ca Ariadna si-a pierdut firul pare sa se confirme, ma derulez mereu singura schimb hainele, sabotii de lemn au devenit o amintire, sar coarda, imi oxigenez fardurile ca sa evit antiaritmicele, frecventa inimii e constanta Mi-a zis: fata draga vorbeste-mi despre marginea visului tau
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