Κυριακή, 2 Φεβρουαρίου 2014

Σάββατο, 1 Φεβρουαρίου 2014



But now it has happen, no use in talking. 
The silence between me and you has never had meaning. 
It was. 
Love it, that was all that was asked. 
But now it has happen, no words for the fore-time, 
the desperation has made me the same, has made me another
Who looks at the shape of a fish grow giant on the side of his bowl? 
Who walks on the terrace observing foliage from above? 

...
you don’t know. 

And I who descend the stairs, neither. 
I am the same, I am another. 


- Poem by Gianlunca Manzi