I want to squeeze the sky.
So tight, so hard to the point of pain. Deep to tears.
When I shake someone's hand, I want my sky to give.
Everyone wants the sky. No one wants a hand!
Hands go to the sky!
A piece you have torn off with your hands! My hands are heavy.
They are empty. I am waiting!
Give me your hand! Do not waste the sky!
11 aprile 2024
Altri contenuti che potrebbero piacerti
Train at six fifteen
di Nastasimir Franovic
Train at six fifteen
the bottle is empty like a well of wishes
without a single drop or a(…)