sábado, 2 de mayo de 2009

BeFoRe AnD nOw (ErAsE aNd ReWiNd) (No publicar)

Hey, what did you hear me say a dry tear rolls for my cheek while the drops of the pulque open an escape to the ideal you know the difference it makes and I fill up the happiness with rum while the smoke of the peace increases my friendship with my brothers.

Yes, I said it's fine before and their looks and words drag themselves on my skin leaving a nauseous smell that I suck in with eager filth I don't think so no more and my look involved you and your blood begins to boil while my lips humidify themselves.

I said it's fine before I raise the arms and the music takes off me the integrity to entangle her in the lights that draw up my head I've changed my mind but with soft movements I bathe myself of the rhythm of the sensuality while I rub my skin with lukewarm and delicate lights.

I take it back two, for, six … What difference do how many hands are? Even so they solely know to smear with mud shit on my body erase and rewind and the caresses dress my body of nakedness leaving a celestial fragrance.

It's not the right way, you know They tear my clothes rooting up pieces of my rotten stem, the escapes close themselves, I’m here and now to nauseated me of excitement I just don't want it to grow he fill my spirit with his sugary kisses while the drops of swear open an escape to the ecstasy.

Where did you see me go I gather the frayed integrity, my eyes bled black tears and although I start me the skin with the nails I can remove the dirtiness that wounds my conscience I just don't want it to grow I retire his tender arms of my satisfied body and I sharpen the dagger that going to tear his loving illusions on top of my ego.

I take it back a dry tear rolls for my cheek while the drops of the pulque open an escape to the ideal erase and rewind and I fill up the happiness with rum while the smoke of the peace increases my friendship with my brothers.

1 comentario:

  1. ¡Qué buen texto! He sentido como el hastío por recuperar algo que no se puede -o se debe- indudablemente nos hace caer en el vano de una puerta que nunca se debió abrir. Quizá es sólo esta creciente tendencia a experimentar lo mismo que leo, no pude evitar identificarme con las últimas líneas: "I fill up the happiness with rum while the smoke of the peace increases my friendship with my brothers". Será acaso por este maldito puente infernal que causa el virus o por aquella, indefinible e inconsciente revuelta que forma en tabaco en la cabeza de uno, sobre todo cuando nos hallamos tan solos.

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