>>5489051The mandragora of Maquiavelo
to watch it on video on stereo,
like in dreams,
i stop and see,
i crawl your skin
im the salamander on december stroking your temple,
Have, i got the eyes dry of cry,
your face in a cameo,
notch, with gouge, each detail, cry me.
one more december going trough cold in a doorway, the street is quemichal.
the dense smoke dosent let me see your spruce face.
drowned octopuses in the cry of a harpy
cry for me or let me cry,
the night is cold, and i can't not lean my peace
