In good morning all my pops. And I remembered that last night was the lighting of the show of my people, which, for one thing or another, spent years without going. I humming:
Taca-taca-taca ... Touch my bones
castanets
eager to show.
But only my bones. Leonor, eight months, not in a position to be the beating that, calling party, and I-bones-happy apart. Is quieter and light the state in which we live. More Japanese that flamenco, we would say. In other words, we should a haiku or at least a senryu, but seriously, with some claim to symbolic. It could be entitled "Motherhood"
The look pregnant and not see their feet. It will
erased.
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