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Sunday, April 15, 2018

BY THIS THREAD: Elia Casillas

I am in the race of the fragiles

 and I descend without a  crust of bread

that disguises the luck of being letter

when the people learn that reading is fashion

that arrived dressed

and  goes naked.

From your eyes stones are born,

I agonize in the circle of the defeated

and from the bone cavity,

jealousy eat up the face arrangement,

I breathe without organs out of time

and tied to another life

I see love sunk in the storm

And my death ...?

It is a queen that does not belong to me.

I have blue nails, I'm singing

and the sky is paints me a four

because I got used to it

to run with luck tending the ankles

and in tears I was a tree,

animal, gallery, street

and without regret I learned to turn on

holding the body,

when your foot seduced the thighs

in a cup of coffee.

The universe of signs awakens its hells,

I have a ship stuck in my eyes,

flames the thought

and turn on the messages,

this sea is a thread,

the moon bleeds and the ocean grows,

and Mexico? Mexico…

Mexico it shits on their corpses!

I got used to being train

and I wandered in my bodies

I made religion a traffic light

and I can not hug the cemeteries

and twinned to the trinket

I see our father and his gallada pass by,
And Justice? Justice?

Justice it´s  shits on  the ABC's!










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