Po's posts from September 2008

on his way to whateverhisthingsare, the pigeon rests for a while on my office's balcony, showing me something, stopping the time.

“all my characters smoke”, said the writer. “They smoke with beautifull, long fingers, white circles of perfect puffs, passive, quietly, detached, to exceed all…

you watch, cosmic moon, your skin. our skin [youtube.com] .smell of burned sugar. fire. wet lips. skin again. pain-pleasure. love-passion. burned sugar, burned…
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