Sunday, September 9, 2007

Actress With Curly Red Hair

Robin





Tell
whisper in the noise of a night
the secret of time.


Where do behind the eyes, the dreams.
Where we loved each other intensely
all our tomorrow.



Tell the sound of leaves that will fall on the bed of a weary day,
to bury pain,
for possible new wonders.


Be the robin of my woods, where nobody else has access
.


Upside of Anger,
builds up in me, disrupting all the time, your
plumage



Beatrice Niccolai
"Robin of my woods"



Saturday, September 8, 2007

Thrush In Gallbladder

Nothing remains



Nothing remains. Among the memories

yellowed, dried flower
only

remember where we came.


Beatrice Niccolai
"Nothing remains,"



Thursday, September 6, 2007

Yamaha Phazer Carb Settings



.
.

weigh certain silences in the lightness of the air knows the autumn.

.
Fall, the richest of the seasons
that tells of past summers,
a lightweight thoughts of
crowds and leave without reservations,
temple in the heart.

.
There is a season for everything
and a time to live it in a short stay inside or look

like being inside that broke your sweater, I should no longer suffer

the darkness of the cold.
. That
your sweater blue aviation
with your smell in

.
.
Beatrice Niccolai
"with your scent inside"
.
.

Monday, September 3, 2007

How Much Does It Cost To Take A Tumor Off A Dog

in with your smell The smell of the return

.
.
The sadness of smoke unwillingly

life in solitude
distracted and one of the first falling leaves

still, your love.
.
I was beautiful in your eyes,

so beautiful that did not seem real.
.
Your eyes soft, divine
frightened by the wind.
.
braided hair

old smell of your skin
undermines the few defenses
tired and leaves from the branches.
. On the thought

as the desire for a cigarette
inspiro eagerly
.
smell return

.
.

Beatrice Niccolai
"The smell of return"
.
.

Sunday, September 2, 2007

Bikinis Wax With Thrush

not ask The last ship ever

.
.
Never ask at the hands of my time

your responses will be time to browse through the days of us
us what exists and what is due to us never to write
without removing the hand from the uncertainty.
.

Stay in doubt of a cause in my circles.
No, not ever ask me that, yes.
unpronounceable sentence all'esisterti
me no, I do not exist.
.
When the lights go down, the curtain rises on the words

life and that is the story
.
.
Beatrice Niccolai
"Never ask"
.
.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Why Alexis Texas Not With Black Guys



.
.
If only listened
everything that the heart does not translate,
feel the wind whip on the shutters strong.

.
'll also hear the trees speak

and hear a timid voice.
.
I supported a whisper on the last
destiny.

I supported his head on the edge of a ledge.

.
Then where everything becomes already happened, you
Undock left the port without
Compulsory routes

.
the last ship

.
.
Beatrice Niccolai
"The last ship
.
.