The other day the sound of a piano in seagulls wings whispering, almost unheard…
The timing of nature… reflex of music in a controversial way… The waves on the river sang along the piano’s tears, I watched the sun penetrate the far ocean…
Within’ the seagull’s clumsy flight, the choir of waves and the sad piano, man ran like blood in a mad machine veins…so far from this tiny details that could in fact change his life…even for a second…he would fell empty but great inside.
quinta-feira, 11 de fevereiro de 2010
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