leaves
daughters of the city of wind,
fall on the bed of my rest.
The ink of my heart pours
on rough paper.
The meeting between the Red and me.
Meadows paintings from the sun
welcome new steps.
fans hope
cards on the cloth from the game of life.
The meeting between the green and me.
Overseas, appears
the night sky in summer. The prince asks
blue
selfless love.
The meeting between the blue and me.
prose : Three colors. the three primary colors to build your own rainbow, in the rhythm of the seasons, in the wind that carries the leaves, uncombed meadows, moves the sails in the seas. Writing with blood. Playing with your life. Waiting for those who are not waiting for Prince Charming.
The "sketches Voice lack of metrics and the elegance of a true poetry and I'm not a real poet. But I love dipping in the ink of the words with them and to outline my thoughts. I'll call it "vocal sketches.
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