EVENING OF CHOICES

So don't be forgiven.
It had never happened to me to consider you.
A project, but a sound of some good technique.
However, there is no remedy for wanting to be.
At all costs; at this time, if you need it, you can find it
a few pieces of slipper and pictures
of the evening of choices.

It's late, it was really early to make some big mistake again.
Time to tidy up the pose,
or to clear up the spasms;
but the keys
they weren't already anymore,
were no longer the years,
The moments, the vigorous alliances of living.
I would invent,
to start over where
the disillusionment weighed heavily.

Cracked belly, but it is not then
so bad to just be, the words
they no longer rummage.
In the adage everything
it can hatch into a bored lie.
Or in a cry that wanted to be alone
in the damp that always saves.

Look, you are free, a thief will come
and he will want to steal you because he will never understand.
Be the images of the evening
of the inner galaxies, of the mature revolts,
be all my times; on this side
of your hand the shore from which the good ones
proposals reintroduce the shortcomings
and they believe they have changed.
Nothing is true.

https://youtu.be/YqVRcFQagtI