viernes, 2 de septiembre de 2016

The last poem

She flew away from my arms
And I remain silently
Silently away from her heart
And her eyes and her lips.
She flew away  slowly
Tearing apart what I remember.
She flew apart,
From my heart made of stone
From my heart mede of dry sand.
Silently I found out,
Flesh dropped,
Insensible,
What it is to have
No soul.

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