Monday, May 7, 2012


I crucify you in these lines
I am a charlatan as much as you are one
My heroism is a farce
I am empty
I open my mouth and all that comes out
is the wind blowing through me
                               — A ghoul
who apparates every now and then
looking for somebody to
make aperçus of my soul
Nothing more

You are my intermediate
        I dwell in your resonances

Enough of this. 

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