As all the fishermen left in dark morning
I woke up with you
dying
far away
but the house still breathes a home
I looked over
to your side
of the bed
but all mirrors are empty
only the roots
move
      
your name
now 
Poetry by Emelén
Read 1040 times
Written on 2006-08-22 at 13:42
				
		 
		
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		lastromantichero   | 
	
		