I like the pain
Of the sense without odor
From the wind to the opposite
From the dress
The style
I like the weather
From the poison
No medicine
From the fan
From the climate
From the slow stranger
I like the meaningless
From justifications to the wind
Of infinite needs
From the imagination without thinking
Taste and cultivation
Loose words that jump
Crazy women in the bowels playing
No out-of-place commas and periods.
Every day I feel them
It's thesis that they want to sample themselves
I like them
Of the eroticism that seduces me
From the sense
Of the meaningless
Of the skin
From the kiss
Of the words impregnated in me
I like!
I just know that I like it
them here
Free, loose, but alive in me.
I don't know if you will understand
But words, they exist to say
Not to go to waste
To say you say
With or without meaning
So respect
The crazy, the crazy, the kiss.
And release the words
So I can see that you're not getting it wrong
Because things with words never end
Me, a joke
With paints
I'm going to stop this text
But know that it has no end
It's a theory that's inside me
Like this
Without end
Without I.
in Culture
