Motoc Lavinia

As a teacher you might think that you have good eyes: whilst everybody was discovering pi this dark haired boy drew a circle with Freddy Mercury in it. I just couldn\'t see it coming. All the

it smells of sea salt and fresh mowed grass in the distance braided shadows in the white marquis it smells of expensive parfume and french lingerie and suddenly ha- ha -ha posh people laugh in

There comes a time when you make up your lovers give them names like you used call your dolls line them up in your bedroom and tell them what to say to your legs, to your neck or how you used to

for all men in my life I \'ve spared a dream in a town with a bed some I loved, others brought me jellwery and sea water in a jar It\'s only you whom I gave dead babies. I smelt them, hugged them,

the starring moon combing her hair in the mirror below the sailor following his shadow to the end of the sea and me wet feathers on my soul and I feel heavy this Friday is a mood it\'s fiever

it\'s time for the unbearable snow to grow on trees it\'s time to white and time to flute it\'s time for God to open up his shute and dare him ask and show himself to me who put me here across

as suicidal roses one night my thirsty veines crying for lust and so the light thinner and thinner falling on the floor swallowed by your skin and more I then woke up no English nor

Her lipstick was gone standing in the window smoking marlboro light with her open lungs like a woman with one breast with long legs and stammering skin but I was loving her and she was loving

this is a hand made poem with scissors, blood, baby silk and paper fool to believe that emmigration is a pattern my footprints are no mexican, iranian but romanian too pink, or maybe too

There is one Ami I know she has cat-eyes, green and narrow when she walks she splashes the air arround sparkling beads soldiers of dawn I sleep in her belly in heavy winter nights diving in her

It looks like spring is here, I put some clothes on and get outside the house, you cannot stay in on a weather like that. I hear my own shoes walking together with me and I promise my toes it won\'t

a rainbow for Christmas in an envelope to be sent a new sky for her dolls and her poney we wanted too many life is now a scented cardboard snowman hanging on the walls of my

on Sundays I wake up at the times cats are sleeping holding hands fish is dreaming of orange blurr outside the aquarium and so forth on Sundays I paint my face in the colours of the war

a man from a book one day said you are writing cheap poetry, my friend! that happens when you try to say how much you love your babies soap balloons filled with her soul follow me in the