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If I was under her gun

Read my mind, and with little substance
my words will come close.
And the lyrics do not you come close, I would
company or perhaps to circle you, and you talk

[but not me or you]

would see in me, but not address space, would wait with you
and follow your steps.
at the forefront of the evening that have yet to dawn.

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(intitulado así)

Not knowing in my shoes, not knowing anyone in my place, not to admire.

[and hanging in your eyes]

Abstracted and vagabond in your eyes are almost green when they want and when want are brown, and when they are without are not. The pair of eyes of yours that does not flood in your voice that breaks, which break down your throat laughing. and look at me, sometimes without looking at me and sometimes without saying anything ... and sometimes just by looking at me.

[as I watch just to look in your eyes]

And your skin, where he died the look, target each of the words will not say, for fear of ceasing to be looked at, for fear that I have stop looking at you, while you look after night after going through your pupils

[after thinking without thinking]

Not knowing what to do. Lost in your eyes.

[Your glows purple eyes] Where are you hiding
sometimes

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Si de regalos hablamos...

A quiet day



a cloudy afternoon coffee, a cigarette

a Book of Joyce

A seat in the Prado

A song Charly

A quiet waiting ...

... just missing you

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Prosa inútil (Reminiscencia II)

"For if you were just in case"

if he were afraid, if I had at least something, anything but emptiness and sand falling from the cuffs, if only there were anything beyond or closer. At least if I knew the exact words to this piece of nonsense text. If only ... if only ... If you just received the acknowledgment.

Or maybe even silence wrong, the wrong tune, or if I were your sound here between my chest and the sword, between the wall and my back if someone had at this very moment. If you were a breath in the blue membrane.

And only I have this blank stare, the incendiary spirit and burning papers that are at least better than this useless prose.

No excuses bearer of the same

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Reminiscencias (I)

Yesterday was April, and if there were any doubts was six. With what hurts it.

was not so bad, although it was too, yesterday was April and also became a song.
Yesterday
rain fell in April and in the meantime, became dark and it became clear, and the winds have blown, just a little. is not a doom far, only a slow night which overlooks the ledge.

Yesterday was April ... I do not remember what it was that six pupils were robbed.