Saying goodbye is not easy, nor look back and see the road traveled words, stories night, soaked in alcohol, worn lipstick kisses and broken dreams that emerged as we walk the night, revealing flashes Light 
breath, with pain in his hands because there will not sprout more petting and meetings, the landscape drawn in code and some famous phrases that appeared in the unconscious slip when uncertain road takes you ...
We said goodbye to the overwhelming silence, the madness of women, those who filled our days adventures female hardwood forgotten and embarrassing for the memories ...
last salute to love, to those who with their unique stories of love, gave us letter, inspiration , envious dreams and hopes that nothing is lost, because we are saved caresses, the eyes help us to swim against the current, potential and two chimeras are always multiply into infinity ...
How many times have I said I hate dismissed and that feeling of dying a little unpleasant when we fail to see us or speak, but the constant cycle of life show us that his gait is smooth between the lost nights and mornings persecuted for night owls ...
unveiledAmong these stories, insomnia, late, quiet, close ties, we recognized, allowed to read the soul, and wept before the unfortunate pain of finding a bit of life itself ...
Among the letters, men and women, street, sleepy, elusive, recurring, lovers had their chance to be the dark and dim, paradoxically came to light, and were born and died in every story, in the following recognized truths and lies, in the corners and behind the bars of the gardens, secrets and places that never came ...
Saying goodbye is not easy I repeat once more, cut costs bond that unites us, the feeling seems to rise up and cry not come to birth, we sadly slips through the cracks of the soul, the certainty and doubt everything returns to its place, we never expected, but the corresponding ...
But parting is grateful for the experiences combined, for free speech and the wind, by dreams that find their way, captured by the sensitivity, with laughter as rain and because the other side there was one or many, or few, but there were eyes and soul and sensitivity to meet the woman of the stories because they all discovered that there was something that was specific characters or friend ...
The word had its space and the curvature of the term found its way, the path to move life, to portray the climate, everyday situations in the light of the poetry was another force ...
The last hug, between feelings and writing, I give all of you, who were there, to those friends and strangers, to the brave men who knew how to tell their lives as delivering the greatest treasure to so many know of them ... Thanks to you
, friends of the soul, which left me the portrait, the secretly asked to appear between these lines and that made history and it was worth telling ...
Will we find between new words, I will always remain Urbana, the stories of the night, here in the web of Prop we find every week, linking our feelings ...
Last Urbana Published in Supplement Journal Faces and Traces of Prop 23 August 2009
Urbana - soyurbana@hotmail.com / / / soyurbana@gmail.com
Author: Laura A. Pereyra
0 comments:
Post a Comment