I enjoy the dementia
that pushes away the ribbon of shelter,
the cold can’t make me bristle
and I march towards remote regions
looking for rain,
with my flesh uncovered,
with warm bones.
My suit wears Chanel fragrance
and it whitens to reach the sky.
YOU ARE READING
When I close my door
PoetryI dedicate this work to all the friends who are left in the heart. To all those who love me. In When I close my door, a social interest and a renunciation for the sake of communication is explicit, the subject destroys his exterior, recomposes himse...
