Daria is young and slightly cleft, says she has an attic-to-artist Roman or transplanted to Rome, a histrionic monoloculo that parthenogenesis is transformed into the room and the kitchen or bedroom and toilet, never in the kitchen and toilet-she-said. The
rented to prove so many things to many eyes in disbelief to this day, and thirteen pounds three years later. There was smoking with friends, and has the boy brought a few, we saw how to do stacking books in a black and white photos of Luzi, the poet, a poet closely stacked from the floor, with studied disorder. It collects a
, casually dangling the arm mo 'crane, when Morocco to make love-she-said: naked and cold with my back against the trunk turtle Morocco Diana blue smoke and dropped the butts on the floor or in your shoes, while someone reads something in a voice hoarse that Morocco is blood-he says. "
Nothing that happens and has no face and nothing
precipitate pure, free from the track, only perceptible to the piety
like you I mean death.
The bed is so low that they can make love in a thousand ways without acrobatic be acrobats, think a bit '. Today
Daria returns to the country that his father has to die every other day: buy a ticket to return Monday morning, because by then everything should be done and if so should not be amen, so he does not recognize it more and she does not care to before I realized that the stubble and the silly laughter was no longer his father.
the country is the usual smell of fresh air, the usual good people, the usual small room with the paper brown and beige diamond lozenges: lying on the bedspread crochet feel of the wet rice pearl floor and provide a road shines through the dark corridor and the waste land of the afternoon.
"Dad?"
And the bottles of morphine turns to call upon "Shhhhhh."
accapannellata enter the window to the kaleidoscope of colors catarifratti IV, which give the death puteolente tediata atmosphere and fantasy, from epic Sunday.
Daria opens the blasphemous taxes without accompanying them: the father's body jerks in response to the blow dry that are on the wall, and it seems almost alive, from the courtyard twelve pious eyes wake up cursing at her, without stopping the melodic line of the mouths praying.
Every Hail Mary, down below, answered the frog lung smoothies in pajamas good one for the hospital, with a constant rhythm that soothes asleep and it is June, is already well, I have to buy sandals and open feel to Ostia-Mariella she says. "
