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evanescent no

Each time I came to look into your eyes there was a truth in your sighs, a question about your answer, filled a void in your real ... something in your sleep. Butterflies had a hundred (that nobody else could see) wandering outside for my belly. An army of butterflies which you were (and will always be) master. At this point I do not care if no one understands, not even you ... not even me. For in the stillness of the evening I'm tired of thinking that "things are so."
in my head was, did not stop, do not get caught stopped ... there was always one more question. He also knew that sooner or later, in the middle of the night (middle of the hole in which one can hide) would end forever the noise and again hear that familiar fluttering inside me. That flapping you always wake up with your presence. Finally comes
unavoidable: "What else could happen?".
After all he had turned back a thousand times the world ... I had given many turns the hourglass of your cracks. Now, just looking for a bit of you in me.
And I know that a lot of words on paper can not come back. I know because I've tried. Neither a million tears.
[And I say now is when brawling: "Enough ... Why do not you shut your pretty mouth?"].
But the answer is as clear as sad: Because finally, after all, if my eyes failed to heal ... my words can not hurt.
Or maybe it's that I like to travel with that constant feeling that takes the form of "hint smile "on my lips. One of those smiles quiet, silent, sealed ... solemn. And fly, fly high ... fly away.
truth is when I remember you (the end always saved me) ... One of those smiles that only you are able to create. A non-evanescent smile.
and miss you, and that the butterflies esperenza greens and the memory (because yes, there are certain memories that can only be green) again stirred in my stomach ... no shame, no buts, no mercy. Dreams whispering, pointing the way and I know by heart (and I suspect that you have ever traveled.) That
, one that leads into the woods ... to lake.
there ... where toads rhyming poems and rhyming verses toads.



Enlightenment "Belly Butterfly" the teacher of Achilles Jalón. More than recommended stop by his blog if you like to walk between colors, wonders and dreams (who tread these places always returns:)
[A bunch of "thank you" Illusionist ... all]

Milky Mucus Before Menses

lovers love ... we

No room for more

When your eyes look at me

So I leave everything

without a parachute and throw me

When your arms cover me

And you're all mine And I'm all yours

Magic

awake drums that sound like heaven Where the merger

is a very close That now I

Now you We reached the summit

A thousand times

feel sorry

Only my soul covers you

And I melt in your own

No room for more

our music is perfect

forever Love ... Love .... We

-----------

To my love.

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Swing

Sometimes I have the feeling of losing control of my life, I feel the taste of foreign losses, lost battles in which not even give me a fighting chance.

guess it's not by chance that something conducive to all explode. Bad memories of embarrassment, humiliation or simply the day dawned cloudy. The problem is to get into the spiral, every little thing adds to swirl and what began as a hard time becoming just a maze that can take days to be resolved.

Nobody understands me or anyone I do not understand? - The less recurring questions that rarely find answers.

feel Fear is starting to become a problem, not to raise the terror or empathize with other causes that go out of your body. I guess the day it is fully aware that anything or anyone I care about is the day that can give me for dead.

My biggest self-defense is the oversight, my best weapon dissimulation. I can smile when I cry inside and mourn when I laugh, why is it so difficult to know and transcend beyond what everyone sees.

And you ... yet. You got it. As a slow song, you got to get one of those swings. Swam in the streams and do not drown, until my lack of wisdom and discretion and you will drown away from me.

sounds weird to say that I cry when I can not see in the reflection of my Guinness or poker cards no longer lie under the glass. It sounds strange to say that I long for caresses the soul, longing to fly unfettered. I miss silence the princess who secretive about when I write and it kills me to see it disappear when I swim in his eyes. Fix the last drink and I founded with foam end of the drink. I work up the patience and comfort me with the rage of a

maybe ... Maybe someday ... In the street

rains come and the thermometers are frozen while I am burning inside, waiting for the next swing of memory, the next smile or the lie that contain all my might.

Image: Luis Beltrán

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Big man!

I remember every day that passes

Not a single day I stop loving you

coming to my mind

With tenderness, passion, sweetness

With Love the great

I remember your hands caressing

mine .. You told me my little treasure

you

My unwavering strength

My window to the life

My light, my inner peace

My refuge

Elder

worthy of enormous will

hundred percent positive

Loving life

Guerrero Luchador inveterate passion

Big man!

You have not been

you still be here every day I see

I feel inside

Life is beautiful, "you said

have to go outside and enjoy it

!

Your

the good things you enjoyed in

And face it in the bad

With dignity, pride, passion

With

Thanks give to God for having chosen

to be my father

-----------

To

That man was my dad

At both love

By that I love

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Oh! Shit! The title ...

Because we have two weeks without updating the blog, because it is a Sunday afternoon and no rain. It's a dirty job and somebody has to. Let's try something new: you ... Ten? Yes, ten is good. You have ten minutes to create the base text, that of which you talk. After five to reconsider and five for corrections and flourishes. Ten more to pass the half-hour computer and you have to have a story published. And the time is counting.

no preconceived ideas what do we now? Tic-tac tic-tac. Acting without thinking, like life itself. Then comes repentance, but do not even have time for that, because you have to act without thinking back to something else. Just get to do some automatic writing.

Stop! Stop the Rotary! Let's stop a moment the world. For five minutes nothing happens around them. This makes it easier. This should be provided. So you have time to look into my eyes and wonder where is the novel that I promised two years ago, which saved me life and all that. I'll say something obvious like a piano, but you can not imagine how good it is to stop occasionally and look into his eyes. I have seen more of what I have written. Hala, you can keep spinning.

have you ever run into a stone and when you fell you've gone to stumble into the air twice with the same stone? There are things that are determined to defy physics for some reason I can not understand that. And the stone ... What do you think of this? I can write the story of the stone that was hit several times by the same foot. The stone adventurer who traveled the roads looking distracted feet, preferably barefoot. Or the story of that poor stone was launched to roll on the world in search of that snowy walk to melt the minerals in love with your heart of stone. Rolling Stone Road movies and soundtrack of the Rolling Stones. The Myth of Sisyphus is the story of a stone in an amusement park.

I do not know why I speak of stones if I take a season beating my own record of not tripping over it. Could it be that I'm maturing? Or worse, is it age?

There are times when so many things come so fast that the first instinct is to feel violated, but then you just accept it and finally becomes a kind of drug. And you need ... other developments, and other developments. She likes to dopamine, give more dopamine. You hiperexpectante, restless if things do not come automatically. In quiet moments need to get up and do something, if things do not come alone should force them on your own, but give flying blind. And when you realize it's Sunday afternoon and try to get nostalgic for writing, but not even rain. Feel fully alive in the bland routine should be very similar this. Every detail draws your attention, as if you had five years and you were discovering the world for the first time. And yet, as I neglect can be stressful.

Vale, we are still within time. Quick rereading. I think the text has the same level of language that he wrote fifteen years. But it is an experiment, maybe next time it comes out better, to make an egg must break some tortillas. There may be no next time. Ok, uploaded to bBogger, now a photo. Devianart random seek in y. .. perfect. You're all I have to publish y. .. Oh! Shit! The title ...



For
Indeed, the image is ~ astrocrack

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Everything that look like two crazy

discovers in his eyes

The door to Eden

view more

not have everything in this look

that grabs you, you melt You

dissolved

..... I lost

And you want, you want

With infinite madness lost in that gaze

Where

take you

paradise opens

And with nothing else there

life are those eyes

That source of life

It boosts your own

And I said .. see ..!

And you rush, and enjoy the pleasure

With only

The gods have the privilege of having

Pleasure

union Absolute perfect

The total noise

love moans and screams That

insanity Releasing the most

A

low not ever heaven

the

keeps you there and then want to be ...... forever!

-------------

For those eyes that look

For

for this love

That has been and is always born

this poem .... .. for you.

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here beside me in this huge bed

I play, I play

I embrace, you hold me We make love

A thousand times

never enough

The love we feel

We transferred, And we

crazy crazy want to be

whole life loving each other and always

Loco with non-stop crazy ......

the world are we

The entire universe is here. ..... are we

Both you and I. ..

Me and you ... both ... Walking together intertwined

light ..... just full of love .....

ours

maybe nothing lasts forever

But the essence if ever ......

The intoxicating aroma of love this

is purity, it is crazy, it's overwhelming passion is

body to body Soul to soul

Life

United

alive ..... both at the same time being

----------

We are two crazy

United

madness

that make us sick and we enjoy each other

not be wise to feel our love .......

asiiiii!!

As two crazy!