domingo, 18 de octubre de 2009

Man of a thousand faces

"He used to go to his favorite bookstores
And rip out his favorite pages
And stuff them into his breast pocket
And the moon to him was a stranger
Now he sits down at the table
Right next to the window
And begins his quiet ascension
Without anyone's sturdy instruction
To a place of no religion
Has found a path to our alikeness
And eats a small lump of sugar
And smiles at the moon like he knows her"

Regina Spektor_Man of a thousand faces

2 comentarios:

Julieta dijo...

Y es que yo podría cantar estas notas a su oído un millar de veces, una vez por cada cara, y él no se inmutaría.
Beso mudo,

Rdimichelle dijo...

jejje..bonito juego..