05 marzo 2012

Swordfish's soul




In a white room with hammocks made ​​of jute.
We slept cuddled.
I heard a loud noise,
I got up and went to the door.
Opening, I found myself in front of a pier made ​​of stone.
There was a big swordfish.
Struggled and people were trying to hit him ...
They wanted to kill him ...
The sword was long,
was turning on itself,
he fought.
It became increasingly difficult,
asphyxiation ...
Water ...
I'm tired.
You called,
I turned.
I looked into and you cried,

I was the swordfish and I was already dead.



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