I imagined people at breakfast, people who know each other intimately, probably a husband and a wife, speaking in unfinished sentences, in grunts, in coughs, as people do, particularly at that time of day. And I wondered what it would be like to sit down at that kind of dialogue, in which sentences are rarely completed and thoughts are rarely followed up and one person is not really listening closely to another. That’s all I had. And that’s when I began writing - Don Delillo
Tuesday 11 October 2011
POEMA PARA LUCÍA
Hacía falta lejía para quitarme las manchas que me había dejado Lucía, junto al esternón, donde más dolía
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