“But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.”

E. Hemingway.
"París era una fiesta"


Thursday 4 February 2016

Right out of my hand

—On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses? 
—Will he offer me his mouth? 
—Yes 
—Will he offer me his teeth? 
—Yes 
—Will he offer me his jaws? 
—Yes 
—Will he offer me his hunger? 
—Yes 
—Again. Will he offer me his hunger? 
—Yes 
—And will he starve without me? 
—Yes 
—And does he love me? 
—Yes 
—Yes 
—On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses? 
—Yes 
—I bet you say that to all the boys. 
 
Marvin Lee Aday

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