понедељак, 7. април 2014.

The dead end of mine

I know your your face
your face is wearing a scratch of light

your shoulders are chiseled in a bird
my hands are laid on them

nothing can open your lips
there I stay unuttered

your feet are road sealed and kissed
I've been killed within their trail

you-the blind street of mine
the house with six verses

you-my locked gate
the dead end of mine



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