“But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.”
E. Hemingway."París era una fiesta"
Peace to my blackened, empty heart
Se le extraña a usted, ¡oh, amiga mía! si que se le extraña...
ReplyDeleteNo hay que extrañarme. La piel que habito es esta guardarraya, y de aquí nunca me he ido.
DeleteLuz y aché, Karen.