poems by julio barco

Language sentence We write we don’t know howLet’s go to workNothing fills our unbearable stubbornnessBut the notebooks fill upOf labyrinths and forests.The moment happens to another.The present flies                            In the frolic of the asphodels.The streets and the brooding neighborhoods.The fires trembleThey are others We are othersWe look for the summerWinter begins between your lipsHeart, when IBe the storm that travels through […]

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