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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2014-02-04 | | Jazz molecules Flowing freely through the veins Of my hands. Improvising The allegro moderato refrain Of the spring. From behind To the fa key Your fingers coming. In the night fog Your soul looking for me Running in undone arpeggios On the continuous line of the boulevard With black pavements. Ruthless horns biting The head lights tearing up The clothes. Finally Your eyes caught me in The sweep net: Rolled Scared In a score corner Under the sol key. My thirsty kiss, with diez Is cooled by your kiss with bemol The hugging of a lied, in summer Is refreshed by the snow of a symphony, in winter. Every now and then There appears an autumn The leafless current for need of life Is broken The piano is quiet Waiting for the trimmers With the life prices The applause break With the thunder The sphere of the perfect harmony Slowly From the shadow The fummel of the wind Detaching It aspires White keys Black keys Refinding Departures And Emotions. Then Indifferently Throwing them to the waste bin The piano closing like a book Our souls agonizing in the keys.
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