jueves, 3 de noviembre de 2011

it could be saturday

Ilustracion por Ale Castro







it could be saturday
the window stings me in bed:
there is a young boy.
I have slept with very young boys
boys born in the nineties
this generation of suidcides
of angels trotting in quarantine.
i have rubbed against them and with hunger i have eaten
their years.
I only wanted to dirty them with my generation, dirtying us
with a confunsing blow, to give up
that which is mine
to stamp boredom on a sad body
and i have done it for us, only
to have seen our voice to drift away
like a trunk that travels by river in the winter
voice cut off:
a tree that decided to leave



                                    Traduccion por F.C.D








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