segunda-feira, 21 de maio de 2012

Sweet goodbye

Death was a honeymoon.
An old wooden hotel with patterned awnings.
Death was time travel back to the sixties, the dawn.
Mandatory passenger summoned from the boulevard.
The sunlit drive.
Pools full of screaming kids,
all live entertainment for your palmtree farewell.
Now wave like an upperclass glove wearer.

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