costs to my mouth.
I have not recognized. The road holding
secretaries, dogs, shadows. And you
. Do not hanger. Nest of wool. Patience.
Tiny prairie.
Bend the back.
Do not touch the winter. Does not touch you.
You have hundreds of fires inside the chest.
The snow-capped peak of your nose is the goal.
continue to ask you the tips of my fingers.
And you've already heard everything.
You slip on my breast as the cry of a newborn.
What if one day I will be mother I want for me
The huge defect in the world you've swallowed.
Luciana Manco
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