moisture attests to its madness and verbena
off the streets when the death
to forget their existence and truth.
meander through the streets
unconscious individuals with armor, armor heart,
than just outline a brief smile
just around the corner of rabies.
cross each other and with me, and I stepped on
tread when they think nobody is watching and if you feel
observed kneel
tied shoe, bow their head.
This friendly city and foreign fugitives, shelter
luxury whores, pirates no flag, the other center
world capital of the periphery,
is built as his word breaks.
impossible for its rolling hills in free fall
dreams invariably lead to bloody shreds
in defeat
in undisturbed waters of the port insensitive.
passers wounds will not heal,
become gangrenous in a macabre dance and represses
exhausting all hope
that removes all traces of joy.
This city consumes
rattling cries out
spring that heals and never comes, this city
dreams sick of gray colors.
Image: City ill, Cristian Fuica
