“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"


Showing posts with label tribulaciones batracias. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tribulaciones batracias. Show all posts

Friday, 12 April 2013

I need the whip of thunder and the wind's dark moan

Cambio cinco canciones, dos cuentos y una bolsita de recuerdos apolillados por un aguacero que deje gorriones muertos en el alero y arrastre gatos colina abajo. Cualquier gato aplica.




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