domenica 30 dicembre 2012

1503


“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window,
 your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, 
our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. 
Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you
 who made me laugh again.”
— Bukowski

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