13 novembro 2008

[da série: pillow book]








Who do you really remember



My father died when I was nine;
my mother when I was forty-six.
In between, my dog and several friends.
Recently, more friends, real friends, uncles and aunts,
many acquaintances. And then there's Sheila.
She said, Don't be a jerk, Len.
Take your desire seriously.
She died not long after
we were fifteen.




The book of longing, Leonard Cohen










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