martes, 24 de abril de 2007

XVII

Who
has created
this eternal hell, mm constructed in the
mmmmm same Paradise's
mm ground? mm Who
mmmmmm has tinted
mm lilies in black, mm when they enjoyed
mmmmmmmm their former
mmmmm blue? mm Who
mmmmm has spread
m old loud voices, mm though they were
mmmmmmmmm happy in
mmmmmm silence? mm Who
mmmmmmmm has awaken
mmmmm my ancient shadows, mm raising them from
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm lackness and
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm light? mm Who
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm has stolen
mmmmmmmmmmmmm life through smiles mm in a well
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm wrapped given
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Who mm present?
mmmmmmmmmmmmmm has written
without even think mm my own fortune
mmm on my
misfortune? mm Who
mmmm has intended
m to run away mm through a maze
mmmmmmm of infinite
mmmm paths? mm Who
mmmmmmm has been
mmmm constantly killing me, mm yet a complete
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Death there's
mmmmmmmmmmmm none?

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm In love? No,
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm not you;
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm me.

1 comentario:

Anónimo dijo...

Es muy interesante esto de los versos fragmentados (aunque digas que son independientes, porque éste es un ejemplo de la fragmentación)... aunque no se si llegue a tomarle gusto...en su forma original...porque como tu has hecho, Coñis, es muy facil transgredir las reglas de esa mujer que inventó esas madres...

igual lo intento...ya estoy desesperado por escribir...no he escrito mas que cosas pequeñas e íntimas...y no de trascendencia...

besos!

hehehe!

 
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