sábado, 6 de agosto de 2016

She was...The wicked Lady
dresssed in black
red blood underneath
and the cold winter bellow.

She looked dead, but she was not
to grieve and sorrow was her lot.

No hates to consum
if so, worms will eat them all.

She was  the random Lady
used before for a Puppet Master
strings broken nowdays
danced to the tune
of those numble fingers
some years ago.

Satin black clothes
to hide the joints and blood
today is the Birthday Rose.

Foto Rochi Nóvoa na casa museo de Dylam Tomas

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