Sometimes in these summer nights is to be carried to other places I like to be in silence and let me inspired by the words that I have the others, those who cross my way and unconsciously to make mark and erase ghosts ...
road puddles of stars, trampling a little dark side of the moon and plant a couple of kites in the sky to the other side and find someone to play with them.
lie a little in front of the church to repent and seek forgiveness then it is always necessary to wash the real blame.
chew the more philosophical questions and then reject any explanation of them, when the drunken attempt to reveal the shameful secrets.
drink the elixir of polluted air that tries to leave when the ghosts of the night perform cleaning and I agree with the tag lost wandering quietly and without any fixed destination.
Sometimes I am more Urban and let it enter my body stories, listen to obsession, with pleasure, to find the exact spot where the truth is mixed with the trappings necessary for anyone forget the essence of what is not was and wanted to be ... I write letters
invisible on park benches for someone, someday found, for which never arrived, and who, somehow, I keep waiting, but without the patience of Penelope.
let me read the destinations for the adventurous Roma who claim to know of other lives and choose the futures promising, because there are certain hours of the night too dark to find a black future.
I talk to my shadow, when you get bored of my lectures part to give taxi rides for night owls, those who listen to amplitude modulation and smell the cigar wet.
discover missing statues that refuse to remain in oblivion and back onto the path of repentance, strewn with excuses, false tears and appropriate speeches, but little sense.
I stand on the corners of the ladies of the night and we rented a little feeling to know what happens to their bodies and touching than ever ply their skins, try to figure out the list of customers preferred and hate all those who hurt their bodies do what they want.
Me hammock for a while in a barren, moon let me look and I refuse to be found when the tears my face to walk slow and torturous.
I inhale the mint that comes from the pots on the balconies and a piece of chocolate I put under the tongue to resist the anxiety of being held and to hear words of love, which always required a certain time and heal any existential dilemma. Leo
fire looks intense, but escaped when I want to burn.
intense line in the abyss I stand to seek a balance that few dare to walk and play, which girl, try not to fall, though not always succeed, which means skinned knees and tears biting pride.
decrypt messages from the stars, that continuously change their minds and give my best smile to strangers who cross my intent on nothing.
silent scream and run slowly through space, I feel absolutely my freedom is so simple that you can cover in one hand and vibrate throughout the body ... I love
nights like that are going on a little , quiet, poetic madness that take me and I go through as if it were a dream that ends at dawn.
Published Depth Journal, March 1, 2009
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