
SOMEBODY We learned hardnessbefore we learned to be held.Carried our hearts like contrabandunder work shirts,pressed against the bullet.At night, the city lit its yellow rows of glass,silent and accusatory.A woman scrubs copper rustfrom a child’s knuckles.A man sleeps on his stomachto anchor the empty mattress.Forget love as an answer—it is only a hand in the
“SOMEBODY” (poetry by Bodo Vespaciano/OCS Valencia)
Extremadamente profundo. Me encanta!!!!
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Gracias mil!
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