"I started writing hundred of poems and sending them out. You know poetry doesn't pay anything, it was just a form I needed. Kind of a passionate, pleasurable, selfish, nice form where you can scream a bit. I guess I needed to scream a little bit." C. Bukowski
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
day one hundred and nineteen : spaghetti bridge
I dreamt of you last night
your presence lightly hung to me
Chiffon
Throughout the day
Stifling and caressing
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