The warmth






The warmth




Feeling wrinkled is not for lack of warmth;


With the noise of the claws of loneliness;


Between bites of sublime incense;


Joy and brotherhood, avoiding falsehood;


The swarm, a thin flock, climbs to the sky;


Between wrinkles, dead hours and sickle blows; ... 



L'EMPORDÀ

{SOPA DE CABRA}


TITI TIME (c).

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