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Monólogo dedicado al gusano

I who brought you, who gave you the existence and absorbs you.

am who brings the fire and reduced it with their hands arrogant models the perfect and exact designs of your anguish of waiting, your phobia for life, your freedom of silver chains that bind you to me. "In silence I hope, and confirm your existence in a sleepy dust immeasurable dimensions of the vast universe, this abyss where I hope patiently
I
you miss reflection in the mirror, I'm the other, that which can never reach play, I am the word made a bleeding wound that exudes a pity misearble flowing from your arteries open. I made her uneasy symmetry of space, time consuming'm your presence and freedoms time that precedes you and above you. I'm bone ... I am the death that you will treasure in the flesh.


-And ... There Was a sense of disappointment,

Kamehasutra 2 English

A-Dieu


Te
write I write with anger,
Because I miss you. Because
rocks lies a void moon
Because silence insomniac measures your absence,
your non-presence that is beyond the abyss of the night
scathing, angry and sorrowful-absent-

The night torn walls,
that resides in my heart and my soul. In the space

halved,
White, bright and clean.
In the open space and settled at the point of a scalpel, in the space
pounds, to inspire.
you expected.

But I write-you-with anger, rage
With glowing and anxious, sad
with anger and singer.
I write the definitive A-Dieu, which does not promise
never
or after
after nor more than ever.

but I write ... the brutality of this
day 7 corrode in April that someone has stolen.

and no more. "Nothing

-

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Canciones para llevar

In the pocket with your friends, those who refuse to believe, think and fall.

Thinking of you and the songs that emerge from the storm, to be found in small puddles that appear on the translucent glow that shines on the floor in the light of the candle to accompany you to hear the songs of rain.

-You-Italy today, and tomorrow the rain intensifies and the songs are squeezed into a rattle unimaginable. Sin, on the birth of space, the things that inhabit the silence, the day I did all those words, those puddles which emerge the candlelight songs that accompany the days of storm and rain. The day broke, which was inserted fear. When you least expect it was.

And that's what we think and dream of those nights, it was the same that we had refused to take part, was the dream, was reality and what we had inside of each breath. The last of the songs sounded.

-and reach the other side and crossed the line-

and light the candle that is reflected in the puddles when you came to hear the songs of rain and storm ... went out.