109 Quotes by Gwen Calvo

the art of kissing the lips of a memory

He falls in love because he doesnt want to.

Sunflowers hellos from gate to gate. The hour at the square. Candy, art, books, look. A warmth given. Beauties with rain forest hair Walk by the clock tower. Sunlight of neon, the keys inside their eyes. No storms. Traffic sounds, salt air. Salt that moves the thirst and destroys all the fears.

Wait for it to rain and then go out into the street.

His lawless list, a poem With dead butterfiles on his eyes He dares to love the law. He likes to break his tongue on the vulgarity and his fingertips on typewriter keys.

Everything is blood and vines. The mark of another day of revolving the body exact And the sky is ours our hope our blue our silence our throat of burning wildflowers.

If you write and you do not like anything you’ve written, you are a writer.

She has survived but she doesnt know what.

the kiss of your neck, the breathing of wildflowers.