1 episodio
Performance/Spoken-Word Poetry moderntypewriter
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- Arte
Poetry that is meant to be delivered by voice
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When He Reads For Me
When he reads for me, the tip of his tongue joyfully sauté on the alveolar ridge, and those German consonant clusters explode and shoot out stars. A new universe is born. And I am a speck of cosmic dust, drawn by the gravity, frantically swirling amongst a nebula towards the hot centered mass.