17 de agosto de 2014

                                                                             Ilustração de Majalin


Now that I know
That passion warms little
Of flesh in the mold,
And treasure is brittle,

I’ll lie here and learn
How, over their ground,
Trees make a long shadow
And a light sound.

                             Louise Bogan 

8 de agosto de 2014

                                                                                                                                                                               cameron thorsteinn - grasss


We are like roses that have never bothered to
bloom when we should have bloomed and
it is as if
the sun has become disgusted with

Charles Bukowsky