Fatigue And Ovarian Cyst

The only force .. .. The mother


is in the words of a dream, also,
fragile and goes freely, runs away;
gurgles as water, without a precise route.
The only strength is in the words of the aurora stellar
in the womb, greedy for life, liberty
by sliding thin and underground
be worth telling the pain to exist, or dissect
traces of encounters that leave voids and
will have the color of a white child
or brightness dimmed and filtered.
Their only strength is in
that white space between the lines that took the life sucking
the breasts of thought,
which tells the child, and her tears, she can not forgive

the ridiculous earnestness of the adult.
That same child who wakes up transformed into a sinister toy

and, inevitably, will go to pieces.

The only strength is in those words to outline a melancholy
nameless, faceless.

words are counted in a mournful sense of vertigo,
dramatic story told and staged
in the vast theater of consciousness, in
swinging sounds of happiness and despair
of darkness and solitude;
words will continue to sell,
starry nights, water
stream ... as always ...
aromas and flavors. The only strength is

in words, because they get lost and never lost
,
streets deserted as long soliloquies,
inaccessible looks distracted;
last refuge. In the words
you call,
pretending to be a great poet,
like the child who can not play yet, but
sits at the piano and imitate the great concert pianist, playing the part of rock
purity, vehement in
reveals profanity the spirit and then disappear or be
;
in the words get lost ...
observe and tell of a jewel box
closed by impenetrable silence of the body
dumb things.
The only strength is in the words that invade

like ocean waves and swell, impure and tattered
worn as a dress;
words, the essence of shame, infamy,
dreams and sleepless nights, thoughts and wrinkles,
suspected outbreaks hate and love;
words, the lights of a night that welcomes
, reconciles and consoles;
measure of time and space
(neither time nor space exist to indicate the traveler
intruder, ladies and
stranger on earth, ladies and foreign
of a shattered world where they

prophetic voices sound like the murmur of a dull and desperate humanity)
but to us, warriors from the shiny armor,
lovers in love
that listens this chaos of voices,
poets is clear to us that words do not run away, and if they coincide
, acquire power and strength.

Franca



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