Afternoon Delights
Or perhaps to be more accurate, it all started with this clock:
a stupid bald clock, it wasn’t my fault —
every afternoon, I sat quietly on the sofa and ate my
young unties, however, one by one, so that the emptiness
of the wall wouldn’t show, or another time in the street, I spat
blood so much that the city was inelegant since only the lack
of interest for others gave our lives this endless depth.
Libros Libertad 