This morning, I'm tired.
And I'm here and I am writing to you,
the child I did not,
the child that I designed
in my dreams and that belly that it is finished.
I write to you the words that I could not tell you when you're gone. Surely you would
not understood,
you who was an amalgam of cells, too small,
designed in an episode of life pink.
It was not really wanted but who really knows?
This morning, I guess you decided to stay,
history to this small stretch of road with her
and maybe with me.
Yes, I know,
all this was not really beautiful but who knows.
I would have told you that your Mom was even prettier
fucking his little miseries.
It would have given you all, perhaps
upside surely.
I should have said we do not control anything, not even
his own life.
It just goes along and struggle. We live
is fashionable, somehow.
Maybe that's what did you not want to end
account ... So I write this farewell
and I send it to the sea that will take her far from me, but we
must be close to your star.
This morning, I'm tired
because you've never been there
but I say it is perhaps better
if not well.
Be sure of one thing: I will keep you, like your mother, for
always in me.
And I'm here and I am writing to you,
the child I did not,
the child that I designed
in my dreams and that belly that it is finished.
I write to you the words that I could not tell you when you're gone. Surely you would
not understood,
you who was an amalgam of cells, too small,
designed in an episode of life pink.
It was not really wanted but who really knows?
This morning, I guess you decided to stay,
history to this small stretch of road with her
and maybe with me.
Yes, I know,
all this was not really beautiful but who knows.
I would have told you that your Mom was even prettier
fucking his little miseries.
It would have given you all, perhaps
upside surely.
I should have said we do not control anything, not even
his own life.
It just goes along and struggle. We live
is fashionable, somehow.
Maybe that's what did you not want to end
account ... So I write this farewell
and I send it to the sea that will take her far from me, but we
must be close to your star.
This morning, I'm tired
because you've never been there
but I say it is perhaps better
if not well.
Be sure of one thing: I will keep you, like your mother, for
always in me.
Tilou Orleans, March 2, 2007
Tilou Flaw: a poorly calibrated heart that beats within his chest .... But no matter because held in His Hand to her ... http://pititeshistoiressansconckence.blogspot.com/ 
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