Quem és ? : Março 2013

quarta-feira, 13 de março de 2013

I dance ...





I dance in the smoke of my days.
I wind fanning me in the hope he disappeared
And while I move me, I pass through my skin
Wanting a trace of what is
But I'm still in the certainty
That smoke will pass
And even his smell will stay in my shell
Tain dance without me, without giving
He goes away and I will get clean.
Ready for new dances.


C.