Like Emily Dickinson, just to do something
The table cleared of death
with doors creaked
one here one there from the exhibit hall
bare bones of the joy stick to the sun's rays burned
crumbs child's heart.
marble fell from the cups of blood
corroded the cloth bag
soaked bread crusts bitten
drowned scrap lung.
I tried to leave, to get up from his chair, but
melted my white meat made me understand.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Counter Offer Demand Letter To Insurance Company
E 'on 8 March, poet (ess) e are a woman. Nothing to say!
So, dear friends and dear friends, I wait for you all because I really have a lot to make you feel.
A boatload of new ways to play.
A Women's Day with a bang. There
unleashed.
TUESDAY 'March 8, AT 18, THE LIBRARY Valvassori Peroni, 56 the number of the street (near the station Lambrate). Free admission.
Everything in Milan.
And then if I will uncork a few bottles. In fact, I realized that I will go.
SOON!
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