. in vacum impossible to trace ... clean here and now real thing with dry lips and no memory in between i sleep misused by the thought of tommorow . (all composers are drowning in silence ) |
hiljadama kilometara daleko ... vrisak gladi u kafi budi jutro polovno i plavo uredno ceka na petama oziljak od zadnjeg pokusaja da se okrene ova morskom bolesti uokvirena stranica |