VickyG17

There in the south where death creaks and love makes noise like an empty seat I have travelled for years looking for the appropriate body. There in the lights night was finding its first signs I had run out of cigarettes and compassion and you offered me smoke with a kiss. Which city, which country which sea you travel through now you say nothing, you remember and, inebriated, you smile in your sleep. And your lips spelled «I love you»

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13 September 1993

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