I say it’s red
and you mortify me
by saying it’s purple.
It’s red and you can’t convince me
with your soothing language.
Red is violet
when I feel like it,
when I mix everything
and extract what comes out
without credit, without tax,
free as a poem
against all threats.
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...
