agonia francais v3 |
Agonia.Net | Règles | Mission | Contact | Inscris-toi | ||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
||
![]() |
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | |||||
Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
![]() |
|
|||||
![]() |
![]()
agonia ![]()
■ De la dissolution de la démocratie dans la ploutocratie ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2010-11-17 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] |
a little bit of faith
is all I asked of you and you avoided the pebbles thinking you know the way better you entered the house wet and made love your skins smelling of bed bugs then she smoked a cigarette or many while you were counting the windows in the room and the mirror seemed like a world where you were called adam and she was called whatever you left late while the poppies were still dancing in the first rays of light with her sandals in your hands avoiding the pebbles thinking you know the way better one grain that’s all but oblivion remains like dust on a lonely naked sole like a cloak forgotten on a tall hump you’re not coming back into my plans you and her anyhow
|
||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|||
![]() | |||||||||
![]() |
La maison de la litérature | ![]() | |||||||
![]() |
La reproduction de tout text appartenant au portal sans notre permission est strictement interdite.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Politique de publication et confidetialité