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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2007-07-24 | [This text should be read in romana] |
Ploua in gara pustie...
viata se chinuia in privirea-i de lut, pierduta i-am cerut o tigara apoi s-a apropiat incet. Dare de sange ii luminau amorfa alcolizata si-mi zambea inca mai zambea... Aveam cativa centi rataciti prin buzunar, i-am asezat nesigura in palma-i aspra plangea... l-am strans puternic de mana saturata fiind de lacrimile mele. Un vant rece mi-a oprit respiratia si-am tresarit speriata... distrus, a scos din buzunarul peticit nisip colectat din jegul strazilor, il invidiam... eu nu aveam nici macar o umbra convingatoare si... ploua in gara pustie iar in noi fumul ultimei tigari scruma clipe, vise si cuburi de viata inca mai ploua in gara pustie.
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