If I come back, I'm gonna pull the duvet and bury it on the pillow. My hand will touch the cold floor. Bladder pain when you spend a sleepless night in the toilet. I look at the street and I look. I'm not gonna hit my head in the ceiling.
Since I moved here, the kid was far from the reflections in the window. But the pigeons come in the light of day. Give me a handful of food. The wings in the cemetery are turning their wings towards the roofs.
Hard to read chubby ones. I can still see half of it. Right, not left. I'm closing the top strip. All irrelevant articles, my frustrations. These readings in time turned into games.
Still fun. When I was in the car, the cars got used to it. We can't afford to travel. His eyes are always on the counter.
Someone sitting in a flabby window.
"Brother, you're wrong again."
My mouth reaches my ears. This is a couple of years, I don't care.
Anyway, they want me to brake in the shadow of a sign.
They will take the book and look at the cover. I'il watch the light turn into drowning light, handshake.
