Pieter Bruegel " Wedding Dance"
dangle your feet in the wind would be nothing, except that you can see me on the ass from them. the jar of fireflies and honey in the hands of the boy is more than enough to show what remains of the day and me. the next branch there is an angel who laughs with a shiny armor anchovies. not made the sign of the cross and tells stories obscene. the carousel of Christs curious, dancing with his mouth twisted a fool of candied apple, a child who swallows a robin taking the leg with a thread of hemp, a bitch from the street that shows me her pussy in the dust. Man spits tobacco on his back and drags in the middle of the broom around by the tail. I feel the ivory tinkling laughter and the poverty of gold teeth, the crickets do the rest. you, you have a stone in the neck that do not belong to you, from up here look like a child bride who does the circle. but you know you love me, you who love the Tarot and the hazards most of your legs, a broken promise that a child is wrong. the spectacle of art varies from a man who is sincere answer the swing with a razor blade just under the tongue in kisses, blasphemed as questions. love is a bit of red wine, the wine is bad memory. and that is why I fall in love with you, whenever you return. Why do not you confess.
"inutile affannarsi a cercare tra i fogli. nessuno ti scriverà mai qualcosa di così bello"
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