Arquivo mensal: julho 2012

Rough

Rough would be the invader of my time, based on any sketch I´d have known.

Rough would be challenging my life with truths and craving every creative thought on a daily planner.

My next great idea will never be known;

My next great son will never be born;

My next great sobriety will be commonly alone.

Paula Febbe

Even In His Mouth

Even In His Mouth.

Even in his mouth I could have been.

Even with theories about my eyelashes;

Even with lack of selfhelp plans;

Even with the heavenly side of my country.

My regards would´ve made me better. Much better than the feelings of his hands on her…

I don´t know why him;

I don´t know why me;

I don´t know why New Yorkers who were born somewhere else…

…still the words on his trigger keep on motivating my deepest breaths.

Paula Febbe