vineri, 20 iulie 2012

My vertigo is a tornado

Or in the fall, winter, spring or summer, he runs with thin legs.
It drove the cars, the elbows, the fabric and arms, but through them.
This morning my cardiologist at any criticism.
He says a white coat. He shows me some curves, sharp;
But I am not aware of other şoapele white gowns and high heels.
What about? What I expected, arrive unexpectedly
And you know, is a desert well.
I hear the concert louder announcing something.
Knowing whether a voice, delivery, mine are?
If you look more closely at the poem,
Look what is a vortex, my drift.
Edge in the race revolve;
Around the middle, its axis;
Faster and faster
Mix words.
Some are lost in the chaos;
As bubbles.
Heels on the stairs;
You can not climb! ..
Here, the upper floor
Where the balcony ...
And a flower, white.
All are in black.
They talked, everyone.
Crooked smile.
Me or you? All!
Does it really matter?
Sadness steaming;
In the distance;
I'm worried.
Summer? No!
There will be summer!
My heavy heart,
In summer I go!
Must still curious;
Where should I go?
Out there?
It 'a moment?
I go back?
To hide?
Great fanfare;
If it rains and
In the haze,
It found me.
I lost.

This time I have gone unnoticed;

Ionel ~ ~

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